JOHN  FRANCIS  NEMAN 


UNIVERSITY  LIBRARV 
OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


INCLUDING  ALL  THE  GREAT 

AUTOB IO  GRAPH  I  B<S 

AND  THE  AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL* 

DATA  LEFT  BY  THE 

EKMOUS  MEN  AND 
WOMBN. 


BOfTEP 

P*{<AY5S  ANP  APPRECIATIONS 
B>'  THE  LBAPrNC  SCHOLARS 
\ND  EDUCATORS  OP  AMERICA, 


THE   NATIONAL  AUUMNI 


Dfiurattmt 


TfflS  SERIES  IS  DEDICATED  TO  THAT 
JUSTLY  HONORED  GROUP  OF  MEN,  OUR 

AMERICAN  COLLEGE  AND 
UNIVERSITY  PRESIDENTS, 

WITHOUT  WHOSE  ACTIVE  COOPERATION 
IN  ENCOURAGEMENT,  ADVICE  AND 
LITERARY  CONTRIBUTIONS,  THIS 
WORK  WOULD  HAVE  BEEN  IMPOSSIBLE. 


SPECIAL  COLLEGIATE  ADVISORS  AND 
CONTRIBUTORS  TO  THE  SERIES 

BATES  COLLEGE 

President  George  C.  Chase,  D.D.,  LL.D. 

BROWN  UNIVERSITY 

President  William  H.  P.  Faunce,  D.D.,  LL.D. 

CORNELL  UNIVERSITY 

President  Jacob  G.  Schurman,  Sc.D.,  LL.D. 

DARTMOUTH  COLLEGE 

President  Ernest  M.  Hopkins,  Litt.D.,  LL.D. 

ELMIRA  COLLEGE  FOR  WOMEN 

President  John  B.  Shaw,  D.D.,  LL.D. 

GEORGETOWN  UNIVERSITY 

President  Alphonsus  J.  Donlon,  S.J. 

HOBART  COLLEGE 

President  Lyman  P.  Powell,  D.D.,  LL.D. 

LELAND  STANFORD  UNIVERSITY 

President  Ray  L.  Wilbur,  A.M.,  M.D. 

MASSACHUSETTS  INSTITUTE  OF  TECHNOLOGY 
President  Richard  C.  Maclaurin,  Sc.D.,  LL.D. 

MOUNT  HOLYOKE  COLLEGE 

President  Mary  E.  Woolley,  Litt.D.,  LL.D. 

COLLEGE  OF  THE  CITY  OF  NEW  YORK 
Professor  Charles  F.  Home,  Ph.D. 
iv 


PACIFIC  UNIVERSITY 

President  Charles  J.  Bushnell,  Ph.D. 

PENNSYLVANIA  STATE  COLLEGE 

President  Edwin  F.  Sparks,  Ph.D.,  LL.D. 

UNIVERSITY  OF  PENNSYLVANIA 

President  Edgar  E.  Smith,  Sc.D.,  LL.D. 

PRINCETON  UNIVERSITY 

President  John  G.  Hibben,  Ph.D.,  LL.D. 

PURDUE  UNIVERSITY 

President  Winthrop  E.  Stone,  Ph.D.,  LL.D. 

UNIVERSITY  OF  TEXAS 

President  Robert  E.  Vinson,  D.D.,  LL.D. 

UNION  THEOLOGICAL  SEMINARY 

President  A.  C.  McGiffert,  D.D.,  Ph.D. 

VANDERBILT  UNIVERSITY 

President  James  H.  Kirkland,  Ph.D.,  LL.D. 

UNIVERSITY  OF  VIRGINIA 

President  Edwin  A.  Alderman,  D.C.L.,  LL.D. 

WESTERN  RESERVE  UNIVERSITY 

President  Charles  F.  Thwing,  D.D.,  LL.D. 

YALE  UNIVERSITY 

Dean  Wilbur  L.  Cross,  Ph.D. 


"Knmo  Thyself" 

—Plato 


"A  few  go  forth  to  wonder  at  the  height  of  mountains,  the  huge  waves  of  the  sea, 
the  courses  of  the  stars,  and  omit  to  wonder  at — themselves." 

— St.  Augustine 


/ 

'..JV-4'^-'-' 

X£j*MVW 


MM^ssafc'; 


j        *  ,*•  T  -,  '.A.  -<  • r  • 

^MKrl^       *f^ 

X4*$KX-    ^      /    v" 

;V^'^-  A-A 

W    v.v;,> 


SENNACHERIB,  KING  OF  ASSYRIA 


•M>  ,>/.!/{  .Miii.'-r.i  >/•'/:  i 


VOLUME  I 


Autobiography   in   the 
Ancient  World 

(B.  C.  3800— A.  D.  430) 


INCLUDING   THE   SELF-NARRATIVES   OF 

KING  SARGON,  founder  of  ancient  Babylon;  SEN- 
NACHERIB, the  Assyrian  ravager  of  Jerusalem;  SOCRA- 
TES, wisest  of  Greek  philosophers;  XENOPHON,  noblest 
of  Greek  heroes;  JULIUS  CAESAR,  greatest  of  Roman  gen- 
erals; AUGUSTUS  C.ESAR,  first  of  Roman  emperors; 
JOSEPHUS,  the  renowned  Jewish  patriot;  MARCUS 
AURELIUS,  profoundest  of  Roman  thinkers;  and  SAINT 
AUGUSTINE,  the  great  leader  of  Christian  thought. 


WITH   INTRODUCTORY   ESSAYS   BY 

JAMES  H.   KIRKLAND 

President  of  Vanderbilt  University 

ROBERT  E.  VINSON 

President  of  ike  University  of  Texas 

WILLIAM  H.   P.  FAUNCE 

President  of  Brown  Unitersily 


COPYRIGHT.  1918,  BT 
F.  TYLER  DANIELS  COMPANY 

INCORPORATED 


THF.   I.IP.RARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
^          SANTA  BARBARA         _ 


CONTENTS  OF  VOLUME  I 

PAGE 

GENERAL  INTRODUCTION XIII 

AUTOBIOGRAPHY  IN  THE  ANCIENT  WORLD XIX 

APPRECIATIONS 

Socrates,  by  J.  H.  Kirkland  of  Vanderbili  University xxvii 

Josephus,  by  R.  E.  Vinson  of  the  University  of  Texas xxxi 

Marcus  Aurelius,  by  W.  H.  P.  Faunce  of  Brown  University. .  xxxv 

THE  EARLIEST  AUTOBIOGRAPHIES 1 

Records  of  King  Sargon  of  Babylon,  3800  B.C.  (f) 3 

Inscription  of  Lord  Uni  of  Egypt,  2600  B.C.  (?) 5 

Memoirs  of  Prince  Sinuhit  of  Egypt,  WOO  B.C 10 

Inscription  of  King  Sennacherib  of  Assyria,  681  B.C 21 

SOCRATES,  469-399  B.C 33 

The  Apologia 34 

XENOPHON,  435-354  B.C 57 

The  Katabasis 58 

JULIUS  CAESAR,    10CM4   B.C 101 

The  Commentaries 102 

AUGUSTUS  CJESAR,   63   B.C.-14  A.D 141 

Monumentum  Ancyranum 142 

JOSEPHUS,  37-100  A.D 155 

The  Defense  of  Flavins  Josephus 155 

MARCUS  AURELIUS,    121-180  A.D 201 

Meditations 202 

SAINT  AUGUSTINE,   354^30  A.D 251 

Confessions 252 


ILLUSTRATIONS  IN  VOLUME  I 

TO  FACE  PAGE 

Sennacherib,  King  of  Assyria Frontispiece 

Socrates 33 

Xenophon 57 

Julius  Caesar 101 

Augustus  Caesar 141 

Flavius  Josephus 155 

Marcus  Aurelius  Antoninus 201 

Saint  Augustine  of  Hippo 251 


XI 


THE  UNIVERSITY  LIBRARY  OF 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

GENERAL   INTRODUCTION 

To  establish  the  fact  that  there  was  a  wide  demand  for  such 
a  series  of  volumes  as  is  here  presented,  the  reader  need  only 
glance  at  the  vigorous  endorsement  and  assistance  it  has  re- 
ceived from  so  many  of  our  country 's  foremost  educators,  our 
leading  College  Presidents.  Their  support  was  doubtless  due 
in  part  to  the  arrangement  of  the  series,  its  scholarship,  care, 
and  above  all  its  completeness.  Yet  the  universal  approval  is 
due  even  more  to  the  value  of  the  themes  themselves. 

Autobiography  is  what  biography  ought  to  be.  It  is  the 
lives  of  men  written  not  by  hearsay,  but  by  exact  personal 
knowledge.  Naturally  autobiography  has  always  ranked 
among  the  most  interesting  forms  of  reading.  It  might  also  be 
ranked  as  the  most  instructive,  the  most  practically  useful; 
because  of  its  value  as  psychology.  In  the  careful  perusal  of 
a  man's  own  account  of  his  own  life,  his  estimate  of  his  own 
character,  aims  and  passions,  we  are  reaching  the  nearest  we 
ever  can  to  the  first  hand  study  of  human  nature.  If,  as  has 
been  often  said,  history  is  philosophy  taught  by  example,  we 
might  with  equal  truth  declare  autobiography  to  be  psychol- 
ogy taught  by  example. 

Would  you  learn  how  to  direct  the  thought  and  action  of 
your  fellow-men,  how  to  sway  their  judgments  or  lead  them 
to  some  higher  life,  read  the  "confessions"  and  "apologies" 
of  the  various  types  of  men  and  women  whose  hearts  are  here 
laid  bare,  with  their  own  candid  analyses  of  impulse  and  de- 
sire. No  other  form  of  literature  so  nearly  eliminates  the 
"middlemen,"  the  professional  authors  and  publishers  mak- 
ing books  for  a  livelihood.  Few  autobiographies  are  written 
for  money,  few  are  published  until  the  writer  is  dead;  so  in 
them  the  narrator  considers  not  the  public's  tastes  but  his 

xiii 


xiv  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

own.  Autobiographies  constitute  the  most  intimate  form  of 
literature.  That  is  what  creates  their  value. 

"The  proper  study  of  mankind  is  man."  Few  impulses 
have  proven  more  universal  than  the  one  which  leads  men  to 
talk  of  their  own  lives.  Merely  mention  to  any  thoughtful 
person  the  plan  of  the  present  series,  and  he  is  almost  sure  to 
say  that  he  believes  his  own  life,  truly  told,  would  be  of  in- 
terest to  others.  He  becomes  reminiscent  on  the  spot.  He 
knows  that  the  lessons  of  life  that  his  experiences  have  taught 
him,  would  be  valuable  to  others.  He  knows,  as  that  shrewd 
critic  Alfred  Lewis  once  said,  that  "People  are  interested  in 
people — in  what  they  say  and  do  and  think  and  are."  More- 
over it  is  by  studying  the  lives  of  others  that  we  learn  how  to 
govern  our  own  lives.  It  is  by  the  light  of  others'  failures  or 
successes,  their  defeats  or  victories,  that  we  chart  the  channels 
of  existence.  "Every  individual  is  a  lesson-leaf,  from  which 
humanity,  at  school  to  its  own  destinies,  may  draw  improve- 
ment." 

Doubtless,  we  find  in  these  facts  the  chief  reason  why  Na- 
poleon declared  autobiography  to  be  his  favorite  reading;  he 
was  a  student  of  men.  Many  a  shrewd  and  successful  busi- 
ness man  of  to-day  has  expressed  a  similar  preference.  Yet 
both  Napoleon  and  the  business  man  may  well  have  had  a 
deeper  reason  for  their  choice.  To  quote  a  noted  specialist 
upon  the  subject,  Anna  S.  Burr,  "A  sincere,  full  autobiogra- 
phy is  not  written  save  by  an  important  man." 

In  other  words  the  impulse  to  explain  one's  whole  life  in 
writing,  and  the  sustained  effort  to  accomplish  this,  these  two 
in  combination  imply  not  only  unusual  intellectual  power,  but 
also  unusual  earnestness  and  energy.  Moreover  the  strong 
impulse  to  speak  forth  comes  only  from  strong  emotion.  The 
autobiography  is  almost  always  the  outburst  of  some  intensely 
passioned,  intensely  fervent  soul,  a  cry  from  the  deepest  deeps 
of  life. 

Even  among  ourselves  of  to-day  how  many  an  earnest  spirit 
after  some  great  personal  crisis  of  upheaval,  some  black  night 
of  mental  agony,  has  grasped  a  pen  intending  to  pour  out  the 
gush  of  feeling,  reveal  the  pang  and  the  stress,  so  that  others 
may  read  and  be  warned  and  escape.  Many  autobiographies 
have  been  thus  written  as  diaries,  some  as  intimate  diaries 


GENERAL  INTRODUCTION  xx 

never  intended  for  alien  eyes.  The  thoughtful  reader  will 
approach  these  earnest  works  with  an  uncovered  head,  as  one 
who  stands  reverently  before  the  naked  soul — God's  image, 
though  often  a  distorted  one. 

Shallow  spirits  babble  forth  in  spoken  words ;  strong  spirits 
if  they  speak  at  all  wish  to  put  their  words  into  permanent 
form,  to  be  read  of  all  men  and  forever.  To  quote  the  cele- 
brated critic,  Leslie  Stephens,  "A  dull  autobiography  has 
never  been  written."  Or  as  the  great  French  critic  Taine 
phrases  the  idea  in  his  enthusiasm,  "I  would  give  fifty  vol- 
umes of  charters  and  one  hundred  volumes  of  state  papers 
for  the  memoirs  of  Cellini. ' ' 

If  then  it  be  agreed  that  autobiographies  are  tremendously 
worth  the  reading,  for  their  intensity  of  interest,  their  depth 
of  human  passion  and  their  breadth  of  human  teaching,  the 
next  question  arising  is,  which  ones  shall  we  select  to  read? 
To  answer  this  the  present  publishers  appealed  to  all  the  chief 
educators,  the  chief  religious  teachers,  many  of  the  chief 
thinkers  of  the  country  asking  which  were  really  the  great 
autobiographies.  The  response  has  been  widespread  and  con- 
clusive, and  upon  it  the  present  series  is  founded. 

Many  of  these  leaders  and  teachers  of  our  generation  have 
even  cared  to  write  for  us  their  specific  reasons  why  they 
chiefly  valued  some  particular  autobiography,  and  have  made 
of  it  a  special  friend  through  life.  With  this  aid  we  are  able 
to  assure  our  readers  that  they  will  find  here  every  renowned 
and  every  important  autobiography  ranging  back  through  all 
the  ages. 

Some  of  these  books,  such  as  the  Confessions  of  Augustine 
or  of  Rousseau,  have  long  been  ranked  among  the  master- 
works  of  human  effort.  They  have  swayed  nations  and  been 
read  through  ages.  Yet  the  effort  to  recognize  them  for  what 
they  are,  a  class  apart  from  other  books,  and  to  gather  them 
all  together  in  one  series  for  comparison  and  collective  study 
has  not  been  made  before.  The  present  series  might  well  be 
called  the  universal  library  of  human  nature,  as  well  as  of 
autobiography. 

In  our  endeavor  to  cover  the  entire  field,  we  have  gone  back 
to  the  very  earliest  autobiographical  remains.  The  series 
begins  with  the  childhood  of  the  human  race,  and  seeks  to 


xvi  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

trace  how  thought  and  character  have  developed.  It  places 
the  first  crude  boastful  records  of  ancient  kings  side  by  side 
with  the  scientific  self-study  of  Darwin  and  Spencer,  the  rapt 
ecstasy  of  Saint  Theresa,  or  the  profound  meditations  of  Aure- 
lius.  It  summons  you  to  see  for  yourself  how  men  have 
grown. 

Hence,  while  for  our  earlier  volumes  every  fragment  of 
available  self-narrative  has  been  preserved ;  in  the  later  ones 
we  have  carefully  eliminated  everything  not  strictly  personal. 
From  the  narratives  of  soldiers  we  have  deleted  the  accounts 
of  campaigns  in  which  the  writer  had  no  actual  part.  From 
the  diplomatic  discussions  of  statesmen  we  have  deleted  the 
long  explanations  of  political  conditions.  We  have  preserved 
only  the  really  human  matter,  the  personal  account,  what  the 
writer  himself  did  and  thought  and  felt.  The  enormous  mass 
of  autobiographic  material  has  been  thus  reduced  within  prac- 
tical bounds,  so  that  a  reader  may  get  at  once  to  the  heart  of 
the  theme,  may  read  with  interest  and  pleasure  as  well  as 
profit. 

In  addition  to  finding  here  every  noted  or  important  auto- 
biography in  literature,  the  reader  will  find  also  another  style 
of  self-narrative  perhaps  equally  fascinating.  The  great  au- 
tobiographers  have  by  no  means  been  always  the  great  leaders 
of  their  day.  Or,  to  put  it  conversely,  the  greatest  of  men 
have  often  omitted  to  write  autobiographies.  Yet  almost  ev- 
ery greatest  man  has  left  some  touch  of  self-discussion,  per- 
haps in  a  letter  to  a  friend,  or  a  statement  to  the  public,  or  a 
journal,  or  official  dispatch.  Such  autobiographical  frag- 
ments have  also  been  gathered  here.  The  great  leaders  of 
every  age  are  thus  pictured  in  our  volumes  in  so  far  as  they 
have  ever  in  any  degree  pictured  themselves. 

In  this  way  the  series  presents  history  as  well  as  human 
nature.  Indeed  the  various  writers  of  their  lives  can  only  be 
understood  when  we  understand  their  times.  For  this  reason, 
they  have  here  been  grouped  chronologically.  Each  volume 
covers  a  definite  period  of  history  and  includes  only  the  nar- 
ratives of  its  own  time.  Thus  instead  of  a  long  separate  in- 
troduction being  necessary  to  explain  the  background  of  each 
narrative,  they  explain  one  another,  while  a  brief  general 
introduction  to  each  volume  covers  the  period  historically, 


GENERAL  INTRODUCTION  xvii 

giving  the  reader  such  understanding  and  appreciation  of  the 
men  and  manners  of  the  time  as  will  enable  him  to  read  all 
the  autobiographies  with  added  interest  and  ease. 

It  has  seemed  to  the  publishers  perhaps  the  most  valuable 
single  item  of  their  plan,  that  the  whole  work  was  thus  made 
a  clear  and  consecutive  single  story.  These  volumes  outline 
the  history  of  mankind  and  of  civilization,  at  the  same  time 
that  they  show  us  the  minds  of  earth 's  greatest  leaders,  and 
take  us  deeply  into  the  real  understanding  of  our  human 
species.  Hence  the  series  forms  not  only  an  epitome  of  auto- 
biography, but  also  of  history  and  philosophy.  The  student 
of  himself  and  of  his  fellows  may  make  it  his  master  textbook 
for  the  study  of  psychology. 


INTRODUCTION  TO  VOLUME  I 

AUTOBIOGRAPHY  IN  THE  ANCIENT  WORLD 

B.  C.  3800— A.  D.  430 

AUTOBIOGRAPHY  in  our  modern  sense  did  not  exist  before  the 
days  of  Jesus,  the  Christ.  His  teachings  led  men  to  look  in- 
ward on  their  own  souls,  to  regard  the  inner  world  of  thoughts 
and  feelings,  the  subjective  world  of  the  human  mind,  rather 
than  the  outer  or  objective  world  of  things  around  us.  An- 
cient man  measured  himself  and  his  fellows  by  deeds  and 
deeds  alone,  by  physical  results  achieved,  cities  built  or  con- 
quered, wealth  garnered  or  dispersed,  slaves  captured  or  ene- 
mies destroyed.  Jesus  taught  that  what  a  man  is,  values  more 
than  what  he  accomplishes,  that  the  outer  world  is  ruled  by 
accident,  the  inner  is  our  own  to  govern  and  control,  and  by 
the  inner  spiritual  results  alone  should  each  of  us  be  judged. 

That  idea  revolutionized  the  world.  It  turned  the  thoughts 
of  all  men  inward  upon  themselves.  Each  had  a  kingdom  of 
his  own  to  govern,  a  character  of  his  own  to  mold,  a  soul  of 
his  own  to  lift  toward  God.  Hence  the  first  great  study  of 
self,  the  first  great  introspective  autobiography,  is  that  of  the 
first  great  "Christian  father,"  Saint  Augustine.  With  his 
narrative  we  reach  the  climax  and  the  close  of  the  present 
volume,  with  its  self-picture  of  the  ancient  world. 

Before  Augustine  there  had  been  many  objective  self-nar- 
ratives. Among  the  very  earliest  instincts  of  primeval  man 
must  have  been  the  desire  to  boast  to  his  fellows  of  his  own 
successful  deeds.  Almost  the  earliest  thought  of  the  earliest 
pagan  victor  in  his  triumph  was  doubtless  to  set  up  a  record 
of  his  conquests.  Only  a  powerful  king  could  in  those  uncul- 
tured days  command  the  means  for  making  and  preserving 
such  a  record.  He  would  set  up  a  statue  with  some  crudely 
engraved  inscription,  or  perhaps  have  his  picture  and  his 
boasting  carved  huge  upon  some  mountain  rock. 

xix 


xx  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

Of  such  nature  are  our  earliest  records  of  the  past ;  and  the 
earliest  self-story  thus  preserved — that  is,  the  earliest  continu- 
ous narrative  as  contrasted  to  a  mere  king's  name  and  figure — 
is  the  record  of  King  Sargon,  the  reputed  founder  of  Babylon. 
Sargon  was  a  conqueror  who  lived  almost  four  thousand  years 
before  Christ.  He  tells  us  that  he  was  the  first  king  who  held 
in  subjection  all  other  men,  ruled  all  the  known  world  around 
him.  But  what  manner  of  man  was  he,  happy  or  unhappy, 
thoughtful  or  tumultuous,  ruling  well  or  ill?  This  it  did  not 
occur  to  him  to  record.  We  can  sec  he  must  have  been  a 
strong  man — and  fortunate ;  for  he  tells  us  that  he  rose  from 
low  estate,  was  the  beloved  of  the  oldest  love-goddess,  Ishtar 
of  Babylonia.  But  of  the  real  man  Sargon,  as  his  followers 
knew  him,  and  dealt  with  him,  and  played  upon  his  weak- 
nesses or  trusted  in  his  wisdom,  of  all  this  we  know  nothing. 

A  few  brief  records  such  as  Sargon's,  the  first  glimmerings 
of  self-consciousness,  form  the  opening  section  of  our  volume. 
They  are  chosen  from  the  surviving  fragments  recently  redis- 
covered and  deciphered  by  our  modern  scientific  university 
explorations  in  Babylonia  and  Egypt. 

We  turn  next  to  the  far  more  living,  far  more  human,  bits 
of  self-narrative  which  have  come  down  to  us  from  ancient 
Greece.  It  should  be  remembered  that  much  of  old  Greek 
literature  has  perished  with  the  ages,  and  that  in  Greece  as  in 
the  still  older  lands  of  Egypt  and  of  Asia,  we  build  our 
knowledge  only  upon  fragments,  chance-preserved.  Of  these 
the  oldest  and  by  far  the  finest  work  of  an  autobiographic 
character  is  the  "Apology  of  Socrates."  This  is  Socrates' 
narrative  or  explanation  of  his  own  career,  his  thoughts  and 
his  teaching,  which  he  is  said  to  have  given  as  a  speech  before 
the  Athenian  court  when  he  was  accused  of  corrupting  the 
youth  of  Athens.  The  reader  will  find  in  this  volume  the 
essays  of  two  distinguished  modern  educators  who  insist  upon 
the  importance  of  emphasizing  this  celebrated  Apology,  as 
being  the  first  and  one  of  the  very  grandest  flashes  of  self- 
revelation  by  which  autobiography  opens  to  us  the  inner  sanc- 
tum, the  "Holy  of  Holies,"  the  dwelling  of  the  god  in  man. 

As  Socrates  was  among  the  greatest  philosophers  and  teach- 
ers of  ancient  Greece,  so  was  Xenophon  among  its  most  admi- 
rable heroes.  Athens  was  the  earliest  known  democracy  in 


IN  THE  ANCIENT  WORLD  xxi 

the  world,  the  first  successful  effort  of  mankind  at  equality 
and  self-government.  And  Xenophon  was  a  typical  Athenian. 
He  is  little  troubled  by  self-inspection  such  as  that  of  Socrates, 
but  for  practical  examination  of  the  world  around  him,  shrewd 
acceptance  of  its  limitations,  vigorous  initiative,  and  assured 
self-confidence,  our  own  age  would  have  trouble  to  match 
young  Xenophon.  Study  his  narrative  well  and  learn  to 
know  the  antique  Greeks  from  him,  the  characteristic  Athe- 
nian, rather  than  from  Socrates,  the  glorious  exception. 

The  Greeks  conquered  the  old  Asiatic  civilization  and  then 
were  in  their  turn  conquered  by  the  Romans,  a  rougher  race 
little  likely  to  produce  even  a  single  genius  to  achieve  a  self- 
study  such  as  that  of  Socrates.  Instead  we  move  far  forward 
through  Roman  days  before  we  find  even  the  objective  auto- 
biography which  records  only  deeds.  This  begins  with  Julius 
Caesar.  We  find  mention  of  an  earlier  similar  narrative  by 
Caesar's  predecessor  Sulla,  but  this  has  not  been  preserved. 

In  Ctesar's  day  Rome  had  already  conquered  the  world; 
now  Caesar  conquered  Rome.  He  became  its  earliest  Empe- 
ror, a  successor  of  that  old  Babylonian  Sargon,  or  of  the 
Greek,  Alexander  the  Great,  who  wept  that  there  were  no 
more  worlds  for  him  to  conquer.  But  the  Roman  "world"  of 
Caesar  was  far  vaster  than  the  narrow  region  which  had  con- 
stituted the  domains  of  the  earlier  "world-rulers."  And  even 
Caesar's  "world"  was  very  tiny  when  measured  with  the  true 
expanse  of  all  the  continents. 

Caesar  perished  at  the  hands  of  assassins,  and  would  perhaps 
be  as  little  known  to  us  as  earlier  conquerors,  had  he  not  writ- 
ten his  remarkable  narratives  of  his  own  military  campaigns. 
His  descriptions  are  so  clear,  so  exact,  and  yet  so  brief,  that 
they  have  become  the  textbooks  of  our  Latin  schools,  and  have 
inspired  thousands  of  military  commanders  to  attempt  similar 
outlines  of  their  own  campaigns. 

Unfortunately  for  any  more  humane  purpose  than  the 
study  of  Latin  and  military  tactics,  Caesar's  truly  brilliant 
brevity  cuts  out  almost  all  reference  to  himself,  except  as  a 
figure-head.  He  even  talks  of  himself  in  the  third  person, 
telling  us  that  Caesar  marched  here  or  there,  or  that  Caesar 
ordered  a  legion  to  do  this  or  that,  but  with  never  a  glance — 
or  hardly  ever  a  glance — behind  the  wooden  mask  to  show  us 


xxii  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

that  Caesar's  soul  was  glad  or  sad,  or  that  the  heart  of  Caesar 
trembled  or  beat  high.  Thus  the  narrative  of  Caesar  prepared 
the  way  for  many  impersonal  war  narratives;  and  his  influ- 
ence has  kept  similar  books  before  us  ever  since.  In  these  the 
author's  personality  is  held  in  such  restraint  that  the  work 
scarcely  comes  at  all  within  the  realm  of  autobiography. 

Slightly  more  personal  is  the  "Monumentum  Ancyranum" 
of  Augustus  Caesar,  which  follows  next  in  our  volume.  Augus- 
tus was  the  nephew  of  Julius  Caesar  and  after  much  fighting 
and  intrigue  became  his  uncle's  successor,  the  master  or  "Im- 
perator"  of  the  Roman  world.  Augustus  sought  to  distinguish 
himself  as  the  great  Emperor  of  Peace.  Roman  generals  had 
fought  other  Roman  generals  and  dragged  the  whole  world 
hither  and  thither  in  their  quarrels  with  endless  tumult  for 
almost  a  century.  Augustus,  having  suppressed  revolt,  set 
himself  to  make  his  people  happy  with  the  long  forgotten 
happiness  of  peace.  It  was  during  that  first  universal  peace 
the  world  had  ever  known,  that  Jesus  was  born  at  Bethlehem, 
in  what  was  then  the  Roman  subject  kingdom  of  Judea. 

Naturally  such  a  ruler  as  Augustus  would  want  his  world 
to  realize  something  of  the  worthiness  of  his  efforts.  The  re- 
nown of  generals  like  his  mighty  uncle  had  been  impressed  on 
all  men's  minds  by  bloody  victories,  by  abject  provinces  added 
to  Rome's  empire.  How  should  Augustus  make  remembered 
his  kindlier  but  far  less  spectacular  services  to  the  state  ?  He 
set  up,  probably  in  many  places  throughout  his  empire,  monu- 
ments carefully  enumerating  each  of  his  good  deeds,  his  build- 
ings, his  benefactions,  his  reductions  of  taxation;  and  each 
new  achievement  was  regularly  numbered  and  added  to  the 
list.  Alas  for  human  glory !  Every  one  of  those  monuments 
disappeared  and  was  forgotten,  until  quite  recently  the  broken 
remnants  of  just  one  such  monument  were  found  in  the  Asiatic 
city  of  Ancyra.  So  we  have  recovered  Augustus'  own  orotund 
announcement  of  his  long-obliterated  services  to  mankind. 

Thus  we  see  that  of  pre-Christian  self-narratives  only  those 
of  the  Greeks,  of  Socrates  and  Xenophon,  were  at  all  personal 
or  introspective.  The  next  such  work  we  reach  is  that  of  the 
Jewish  statesman  and  general,  Josephus.  His  book  presents 
a  story  intensely  living,  human  and  vivacious.  Josephus  like 
Socrates  writes  in  self-defense.  The  Jews  had  risen  in  a  wide- 


IN  THE  ANCIENT  WORLD.  xxiii 

spread  and  desperate  revolt  against  Rome,  and  had  been 
crushed  after  much  hard  fighting.  Josephus  had  taken  part 
in  the  revolt,  had  been  its  leader  in  Galilee  where  he  was  a 
sort  of  semi-official  governor,  but  had  escaped  punishment  by 
the  Romans,  indeed  been  taken  into  favor.  Why?  Josephus 
himself  offers  excellent  reasons,  but  could  not  still  the  voices 
of  his  foes  among  his  own  people,  who  accused  him  of  treach- 
ery. He  fronts  the  difficult  task  of  justifying  himself  with- 
out offending  his  Roman  masters ;  and  he  handles  the  dilemma 
skilfully  and  boldly.  Here  for  the  first  time  in  autobiography 
we  find  diplomacy.  Socrates  also  had  faced  accusations;  but 
he  had  scorned  to  bend  or  parley.  The  great  Greek  philoso- 
pher made  his  Apology  facing  death  and  willing  to  face  death. 
Josephus  originates  for  us  that  type  of  autobiographer  who 
gives  his  work  to  the  world  during  his  life  with  the  aim  of 
protecting  his  remaining  days  rather  than  of  clarifying  the 
past. 

Perhaps  the  reader  will  begin  here  to  discriminate  with  us 
between  the  various  possible  purposes  of  autobiographers  and 
the  effect  of  such  contrasting  purposes  upon  their  writing. 
How  much  of  Josephus  are  we  to  believe  ?  And  if  he  does  not 
stoop  to  falsify,  how  much  does  he  suppress  which  might  if 
told  give  a  wholly  different  aspect  to  the  tale?  What  other 
motives  beside  self-justification — or  as  in  the  case  of  Sargon 
and  Augustus,  self-laudation — could  lead  a  man  to  the  labor 
of  autobiographic  toil  ?  Partly  perhaps  we  catch  another  mo- 
tive in  Julius  Caesar.  His  is  that  scientific  impulse  which 
finds  a  satisfaction  in  the  mere  logical  systematizing  of  ma- 
terial for  one's  own  use  and  that  of  others.  Assuredly  we 
approach  another  impulse  with  our  next  autobiography,  the 
celebrated  "Meditations"  of  Marcus  Aurelius. 

Aurelius  was  also  a  Roman  Emperor,  though  of  later  date 
(121-180  A.  D.)  than  Julius  and  Augustus.  The  world  which 
his  predecessors  had  conquered,  he  ruled  with  kindliness  and 
wisdom,  was  reckoned  indeed  among  the  very  noblest  of  Ro- 
man rulers.  In  his  day  Christianity  did  not  yet  dominate  the 
world.  Aurelius  himself  knew  very  little  of  it  except  as  a 
suspected  doctrine  held  by  some  rebellious  slaves.  Yet  the 
rising  introspective  spirit  of  the  age  is  clearly  visible  in  Aure- 
lius' work. 


LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

A  great  critic  recently  ranked  Aurelius'  book  as  being  the 
noblest  pre-Christian  expression  of  mankind ;  and  another, 
while  regretting  that  its  formlessness  made  it  of  little  value  in 
the  education  of  youth,  declared  that  in  the  aid  and  guidance 
which  it  gives  to  older  men,  it  has  few  equals.  He  says  ' '  it 
makes  its  appeal,  not  to  the  hopes  and  enthusiasm  of  youth,  so 
much  as  to  the  graver  moods  which  disciplines  of  patience  and 
experience  bring."  Aurelius,  a  true  philosopher,  tells  us  of 
the  experiences  of  life  which  have  brought  him  to  his  views, 
and  then  presents  the  views.  Why  ?  Partly  perhaps  because 
of  his  lifelong  imperial  policy  of  helping  others;  but  partly 
also,  one  suspects,  as  relief  to  a  great  gentle  heart,  lonely  and 
overcharged  with  sorrow.  Jesus,  without  the  divine  uplifting 
spark  of  hope  which  made  him  more  than  man,  might  have 
written  as  Aurelius  wrote. 

This  brings  us  to  Saint  Augustine,  the  first  Christian  auto- 
biographer.  The  world  had  changed  grimly  in  the  two  centu- 
ries which  separate  Aurelius  and  Augustine.  The  old  Ro- 
man machine  was  running  still,  but  was  a  sadly  broken  and 
outworn  world-organism.  The  manhood  of  civilization,  or  at 
least  of  Rome's  tyrannous  leadership  of  civilization,  was  ex- 
hausted. Her  armies  were  filled  with  German  barbarians, 
and  these  had  learned  their  power.  Augustine  saw  all  Gaul 
and  upper  Italy  ravaged  repeatedly  by  German  hordes  and 
finally  saw  Rome  itself  sacked  by  them  in  the  year  410. 

Before  that,  the  Roman  Emperor  Constantine  had  removed 
his  capital  to  the  safer  seclusion  of  Constantinople.  He  had 
also  (328  A.  D.)  formally  adopted  Christianity  as  the  state 
religion  of  the  Roman  world.  The  "Galilean"  had  conquered. 
The  carpenter's  son  of  Nazareth,  a  peasant  born  among  a 
subject  people,  was  acknowledged  as  "Lord  of  Life  and  of 
Eternity." 

Why  the  older  faiths  and  philosophies  thus  yielded  to  Chris- 
tianity, we  can  learn  from  Saint  Augustine.  He  was  not 
born  a  Christian;  at  first  like  other  leaders  of  the  day  he 
despised  the  sect,  in  ignorance  of  what  it  really  taught.  I>ut 
Augustine  was  born  a  thinker  of  the  keenest,  clearest,  highest 
order.  In  marvelous  fashion  he  tells  us  how  he  searched  all 
faiths  and  philosophies,  testing  out  mere  carnal  pleasure  amid 
the  rest ;  and  how  he  found  conviction  or  contentment  in  none, 


IN  THE  ANCIENT  WORLD  xxv 

until  the  great  Saint  Ambrose  showed  him  the  real  heart  of 
Christianity.  No  fair-minded  man  has  any  right  to  reject  the 
essential  essence  of  Christianity,  the  spirit  of  superhuman 
love,  until  he  has  read,  has  mastered,  and  has  dared  reject, 
the  "Confessions"  of  Saint  Augustine. 


THE  APOLOGY  OF  SOCRATES 

By  J.  H.  Kirkland,  Ph.D.,  LL.D. 

BIOGRAPHY  is  the  essence  of  history  and  history  is  a  compo- 
site, a  blending  of  many  biographies.  Events  do  not  happen, 
they  are  brought  to  pass.  They  are  the  result  of  personal 
force,  they  come  from  many  conflicting  and  cooperating  en- 
deavors. A  large  part  of  historical  study  consists  in  the 
collection  of  biographical  material.  And  no  other  biograph- 
ical material  is  so  interesting  as  that  which  is  contributed  by 
the  party  whose  life  and  work  is  to  be  studied.  Personal  ex- 
planations, interpretations,  disclosures,  have  a  distinct  ad- 
vantage over  all  contributions  made  by  others,  whether  friend 
or  foe.  And  every  man  makes  such  disclosures.  In  a  sense 
every  man  writes  his  own  biography.  All  achievement  is  a 
self-revelation ;  all  speech,  all  writing,  tells  part  of  a  life  story. 

Such  material  has  a  value  and  interest  as  great  as  the  life 
of  the  writer,  and  sometimes  even  greater.  Hence  the  im- 
portance of  letters,  of  journals,  of  speeches,  of  memoirs  of  all 
kinds.  Some  documents  of  this  kind  have  a  place  among  the 
most  valued  literature  of  the  world.  They  occupy  a  unique 
place,  nothing  can  ever  supplant  them ;  passing  years  only  add 
to  their  interest.  Among  notable  works  of  this  character 
might  be  mentioned  the  Diary  of  Samuel  Pepys,  the  Table 
Talk  of  Martin  Luther,  the  Meditations  of  Marcus  Aurelius, 
and  Froissart's  Chronicle. 

Among  shorter  papers  not  one  surpasses  in  value  and  in 
human  interest  that  which  Plato  has  preserved  for  us  under 
the  title  "The  Apology  of  Socrates."  This  remarkable  ad- 
dress will  forever  command  the  attention  of  the  world,  and  it 
will  never  have  a  rival.  There  was  but  one  Socrates.  There 
was  never  a  life  like  his,  so  original,  so  unconventional,  so 
erratic,  so  broadly  human,  and  yet  so  apart  from  the  common 
pattern  of  men.  There  was  never  a  trial  like  the  one  to  which 
he  was  summoned,  and  there  was  never  a  defense  like  the  one 
he  made. 

zzvii 


xxviii  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

At  the  outset  we  are  met  with  the  question  whether  the 
Apology  preserved  for  us  by  Plato  is  really  the  one  made  by 
Socrates.  There  was  no  attempt  to  take  the  speech  as  deliv- 
ered and  no  manuscript  was  prepared  in  advance.  His  "di- 
vine sign"  had  forbidden  him  to  take  thought  as  to  what  he 
should  utter  and  he  deemed  it  unworthy  of  his  blameless  life 
to  make  a  defense  like  a  school  boy  with  a  carefully  prepared 
speech.  Nevertheless  we  may  easily  accept  the  speech  given 
us  by  Plato  as  essentially  the  defense  of  Socrates.  Certainly 
it  is  true  in  substance ;  and  even  in  form  and  manner  of  pre- 
sentation it  is  appropriate  to  the  man  and  to  the  occasion. 

The  trial  of  Socrates  was  in  399  B.  C.  before  one  of  the 
popular  tribunals,  or  Heliastic  courts,  consisting  of  more  than 
five  hundred  members.  At  that  time  Socrates  was  70  years  of 
age.  His  accusers,  three  in  number,  were  Meletus,  Anytus 
and  Lycon.  The  indictment  charged  him  with  failure  to  wor- 
ship the  gods  whom  the  city  worshiped,  and  with  the  intro- 
duction of  new  divinities  of  his  own,  also  next  with  corrupting 
the  youth.  The  penalty  asked  for  was  death.  Socrates  in  his 
defense  centers  his  remarks  on  the  first  charge.  In  his  judg- 
ment the  second  and  third  charges  fall  necessarily  with  the 
first.  To  this  charge  he  not  only  enters  the  claim  of  "not 
proven"  but  the  counter  assertion  of  a  positive  denial.  His 
mature  life  had  been  given  to  the  service  of  the  God.  For  this 
he  had  counted  other  goods  as  of  no  value,  he  had  despised 
wealth,  he  had  neglected  his  family,  he  had  sought  no  ad- 
vancement in  the  state.  He  was  a  religious  missionary.  His 
whole  time  was  spent  in  public,  he  talked  to  all  who  would 
join  in  conversation  or  would  listen,  his  commission  was  to 
improve  moral  character  as  well  as  to  clarify  the  intellectual 
vision.  And  he  did  this  without  thought  of  personal  gain. 
His  clothing  was  scant,  his  food  was  coarse,  his  meat  was  to 
do  the  will  of  Him  by  whom  he  was  sent.  His  themes  were 
human  virtues,  as  piety,  justice,  temperance,  courage.  His 
exhortations  were  to  knowledge,  to  wisdom,  to  truth.  His  re- 
bukes of  ignorance,  of  conceit,  of  baseness  and  falsity,  were 
unceasing  and  unsparing.  Naturally  he  had  made  a  host  of 
enemies.  These  were  his  real  accusers.  Back  of  Meletus, 
Anytus  and  Lycon  he  saw  the  men  whom  he  had  offended  and 
who  in  turn  had  filled  Athens  with  charges  against  him.  ' '  The 


THE  BOOK  OF  SOCRATES  xxix 

envy  and  malice  of  the  multitude  is  what  will  condemn  me,  if 
condemned  I  am."  Many  of  those  whom  he  had  offended 
were  eminent  as  statesmen,  poets,  or  rhetoricians — men  of  in- 
fluence and  position.  That  Socrates  had  followed  such  a 
career  so  long  without  molestation  has  been  considered  by 
many  a  stranger  circumstance  than  that  of  his  final  arrest  and 
trial. 

The  tone  of  his  defense  is  remarkable.  Socrates  is  con- 
scious of  enmity  but  not  of  guilt.  He  speaks  only  because 
required  to  do  so  under  the  law.  He  promises  no  alteration  of 
life  but  declares  that  were  he  now  acquitted  he  would  continue 
in  the  course  he  had  been  pursuing.  And  to  the  views  and 
feelings  and  pride  of  the  judges  he  makes  no  concessions. 
He  bears  witness  to  the  truth,  he  speaks  for  distant  ages,  he 
keeps  the  integrity  of  his  own  soul.  He  cares  nothing  for  life 
if  it  has  to  be  preserved  even  by  the  slightest  deviation  from 
the  path  of  personal  dignity  and  rectitude — hence  there  is  no 
appeal,  no  entreaty,  no  conciliatory  assurances,  no  suggestion 
of  relief  other  than  the  complete  vindication  of  his  life  and 
his  labors.  Grote  wonders  not  that  he  was  convicted,  but  that 
he  was  convicted  by  so  small  a  majority.  Xenophon  says :  ' '  He 
was  not  willing  to  do  any  of  those  things  contrary  to  law 
which  are  wont  to  be  done  in  court;  and  although  had  he 
consented  to  do  anything  of  the  kind,  even  in  a  very  moderate 
degree,  he  might  easily  have  gotten  from  the  judges  his  re- 
lease, he  preferred  to  die  abiding  by  the  laws,  rather  than 
transgressing  them  to  live." 

Socrates'  trial  and  death  testify  to  his  inflexible  obedience 
to  divine  commands  as  interpreted  in  his  own  soul ;  also  to  his 
reverence  for  law  and  his  unwillingness  to  violate  it.  Against 
these,  life  had  no  charms  and  death  no  terrors.  The  issues  are 
universal.  Again  and  again  through  the  ages  men  are  brought 
to  judgment  and  have  to  face  similar  alternatives.  In  every 
struggle  of  this  character  Socrates'  Apology  is  a  sublime  chal- 
lenge. Quintilian  expresses  his  satisfaction  that  Socrates 
"maintained  that  towering  dignity  which  brought  out  the 
rarest  and  most  exalted  of  his  attributes,  but  which  at  the 
same  time  renounced  all  chance  of  acquittal."  Grote  has  well 
summed  up  the  case  as  follows:  "He  took  his  line  of  defense 
advisedly,  and  with  full  knowledge  of  the  result.  It  supplied 


LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

him  with  the  fittest  of  all  opportunities  for  manifesting,  in  an 
impressive  manner,  both  his  personal  ascendency  over  human 
fears  and  weakness,  and  the  dignity  of  what  he  believed  to  be 
his  divine  mission.  It  took  him  away  in  his  full  grandeur 
and  glory,  like  the  setting  of  the  tropical  sun,  at  a  moment 
when  senile  decay  must  be  looked  upon  as  close  at  hand.  He 
calculated  that  his  defense  and  bearing  on  the  trial  would  be 
the  most  emphatic  lesson  which  he  could  possibly  read  to  the 
youth  of  Athens ;  more  emphatic,  probably,  than  the  sum  total 
of  those  lessons  which  his  remaining  life  might  suffice  to  give, 
if  he  shaped  his  defense  otherwise." 

There  is  but  one  other  incident  in  history  to  which  the  trial 
of  Socrates  may  be  compared.  More  than  four  hundred  years 
later  there  stood  before  Pilate's  judgment  seat  a  Jewish  pris- 
oner whose  life,  whose  teachings,  whose  devotion  to  humanity, 
whose  relation  to  a  divine  Father,  whose  indifference  to  his 
own  fate,  were  worthily  foreshadowed  in  the  trial,  the  defense 
and  death  of  Socrates. 


THE  LIFE  OF  FLAVIUS  JOSEPHUS 

By  Robert  Ernest  Vinson,  D.D.,  LL.D. 

IT  is  given  to  some  men  to  bring  about  crises  in  human  his- 
tory, and  themselves  to  direct  the  course  of  after-centuries. 
Others  live  in  and  through  great  crises,  and  participate  in 
their  struggles  and  benefits,  but  make  no  real  contribution 
thereto.  Others,  still,  live  at  these  partings  of  the  world's 
ways,  and  play  a  certain  part,  but,  through  some  strange  per- 
versity or  blindness  to  essential  issues,  fail  utterly  to  direct 
their  abilities  aright,  and  permit  the  opportunities  to  pass 
without  profit  either  to  themselves  or  to  their  fellows.  In 
this  last  class,  we  must  place  Flavius  Josephus,  one  of  its  most 
outstanding  examples,  who  has  himself  unconsciously  lifted 
the  hand  of  warning  against  imitation. 

Born  only  seven  years  after  the  close  of  the  earthly  career 
of  Christ,  he  lived  until  about  the  third  year  of  the  Second 
Century,  in  a  period  which  meant  more  to  the  Jewish  people 
than  any  other  of  equal  length  throughout  their  history,  and 
perhaps  more  than  all  the  rest  of  their  history  together.  The 
nation  was  upon  the  verge  of  ruin,  a  catastrophe  which  two 
thousand  years  have  not  yet  redeemed.  It  was  a  time  of 
suffering  and  death,  of  heroes  and  martyrs  and  traitors.  Jo- 
sephus suffered,  but  he  did  not  die,  and  he  was  neither  a  hero 
nor  a  martyr  in  the  cause  of  his  nation.  He  did  some  service 
too.  The  larger  part  of  his  own  record  of  his  life  is  taken  up 
with  his  command  of  the  Jewish  soldiers  in  Galilee,  and  par- 
ticularly with  accounts  of  his  efforts  to  keep  the  people  and 
their  local  leaders  assured  of  his  loyalty.  He  had  consider- 
able ability  as  a  commander  of  men,  and  must  have  been  a 
quick  and  attractive  personality.  He  endeavored  to  avoid 
bloodshed  whenever  possible,  and  was  never  guilty  of  harsh 
treatment  of  his  enemies,  at  least  as  harshness  went  in  those 
days.  But  underlying  all  that  he  said  and  did  is  the  fact, 
acknowledged  by  him,  that  he  thought  that  the  Jews  should 

xxxi 


xxxii  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

not  fight  against  Rome.  He  himself  was  assured  of  Rome's 
greater  power  and  of  the  uselessness  of  resistance.  So  much 
was  this  the  case  that  he  seems  not  to  have  considered  whether 
any  principles  were  involved.  He  saw  his  people  face  to  face 
with  the  inevitable,  with  no  recourse  except  submission.  This 
conclusion  of  his  was  concealed,  and  he  advised  those  who  were 
associated  with  him  to  dissemble  their  real  opinions  until  such 
time  as  it  might  be  expedient  to  declare  themselves.  His 
effort  seems  to  have  been  in  the  direction  of  saving  the  nation 
from  outward  ruin,  from  material  destruction,  by  the  simple 
process  of  sacrificing  national  honor  to  national  existence. 
After  his  capture  by  Vespasian,  succeeding  a  rather  memo- 
rable defense  of  the  stronghold  of  Jotapata,  he  threw  the 
weight  of  his  influence  upon  the  side  of  the  Romans,  and  was 
employed  by  them  in  their  final  successful  operations  against 
Jerusalem,  chiefly  in  the  effort  to  dissuade  his  own  people  from 
further  resistance  to  superior  force.  For  these  services,  he 
was  richly  rewarded  by  the  Emperor.  Lands  in  Judea  were 
assigned  him,  and  sufficient  provision  for  his  living  in  Rome 
was  made,  both  Josephus  and  Vespasian  having  concluded, 
wisely,  that  residence  in  Judea  under  all  the  circumstances 
might  not  be  comfortable.  The  remainder  of  his  days,  after 
the  fall  of  Jerusalem,  Josephus  spent  in  Rome,  engaged  in 
writing.  In  this,  he  was  both  voluminous  and  successful,  pro- 
ducing his  Antiquities,  Wars  of  the  Jews,  Against  Apion, 
and  a  number  of  Dissertations,  in  addition  to  the  account  of 
his  own  life. 

How  is  such  a  man  to  be  adjudged?  He  was  descended 
from  royal  and  sacerdotal  lines.  He  enjoyed  all  the  advan- 
tages which  fell  to  the  lot  of  any  favored  youth  of  his 
own  day.  He  was  the  sort  of  man  to  profit  by  his  opportuni- 
ties, his  mental  alertness  being  easily  gathered  from  his  writ-, 
ings,  which  confirm  his  own  na'ive  estimate  of  himself:  "I 
made  mighty  proficiency  in  the  improvements  of  my  learning, 
and  appeared  to  have  both  a  great  memory  and  understand- 
ing. Moreover,  when  I  was  a  child,  and  about  fourteen  years 
of  age,  I  was  commended  by  all  for  the  love  I  had  to  learning; 
on  which  account  the  high  priests  and  principal  men  of  the 
city  came  frequently  to  me  together,  in  order  to  know  my 
opinion  about  the  accurate  understanding  of  points  of  the 


THE  BOOK  OF  JOSEPHUS  xxxiii 

law."  Such  a  procedure  upon  the  part  of  the  high  priests 
and  principal  men  may  have  meant  much  or  little  so  far  as 
the  actual  ability  of  this  boy  was  concerned ;  for  in  those 
days  it  was  quite  customary  to  secure  opinions  upon  moot 
points  from  children  and  women,  simply  for  the  value  which 
was  supposed  to  reside  in  the  opinion  of  an  untutored  mind. 
But  the  possibility  of  the  possession  of  "understanding"  by 
a  boy  of  fourteen  was  contrary  to  all  Jewish  precedents.  As 
far  back  as  the  days  of  Job,  it  had  been  a  firm  conviction  that 
wisdom  and  discretion  "dwell  with  the  aged,"  being  matters 
not  only  of  memory  of  written  law  but  of  some  experience  in 
living.  Their  attitude  toward  Josephus  seems  to  have  borne 
in  him  its  proper  fruit;  for  he  proceeds  to  relate,  "when  I 
was  about  sixteen  years  old,  I  had  a  mind  to  make  trial  of 
the  several  sects  that  were  among  us,  .  .  .  Pharisees,  .  .  . 
Sadducees,  and  .  .  .  Essenes";  which  leaves  the  reader  of 
to-day  in  "a  strait  betwixt  two,"  whether  he  should  wonder 
more  at  the  temerity  of  the  boy  or  at  the  candor  of  the  man 
in  making  the  record. 

After  all  is  said,  however,  we  must  admit  the  mental  ability 
of  Josephus.  Weakness  here  was  not  his  trouble.  It  lay  deeper, 
in  his  moral  nature,  and  it  is  just  this  distinction  which  makes 
the  record  of  his  life  of  greatest  value  to  the  present-day 
reader.  There  is  no  substitute  for  moral  weakness,  nor  any 
foil  for  it.  It  cuts,  deeply,  irremediably.  All  other  qualities, 
however  excellent,  fail  to  counteract  its  deadly  force.  There 
is  no  reference  to  the  grosser  forms  of  immorality  (Josephus 
was  not  that  sort,  by  the  record),  but  to  the  kind  of  im- 
morality which  enters  into  judgments  and  values.  It  was  the 
power  of  Rome,  not  her  right,  to  conquer  Jerusalem  which 
weighed  with  him.  He  saw  the  inevitable,  and  bowed  his 
head.  He  could  not  stand  upright  and  be  crushed  for  princi- 
ple,— the  quality  of  moral  and  spiritual  stamina  was  lacking. 
John  of  Gischala,  his  contemporary,  was  a  finer  figure,  as  he 
marched,  loaded  with  chains,  at  the  chariot  wheels  of  Titus 
through  the  streets  of  Rome,  than  Josephus,  who  sat  perhaps 
in  the  Emperor's  box.  Compare  him  with  Albert  of  Belgium, 
of  similar  circumstances,  who  lost  all, — country,  army,  people, 
and  throne,  everything  but  honor,  a  species  of  conduct  of  in- 
estimable value,  preserving  as  it  does  a  fineness  of  spiritual 


xxxiv          LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

sensibility  of  which  the  world  always  stands  in  need, — and 
we  have  in  him  the  opposite  of  Josephus;  for  Josephus 
trimmed  his  sails  to  every  wind  and  drove  his  boat  upon  the 
rocks,  and  no  one  cared. 


MARCUS  AURELIUS 

By  William  H.  P.  Faunce,  D.D,  LL.D. 

AMONG  the  great  teachers  of  humanity  few  occupy  a  place 
so  secure  as  the  great  Roman  Emperor,  Marcus  Aurelius.  The 
ruler  of  a  hundred  million  people,  with  an  empire  extending 
from  the  gray  hills  of  Scotland  to  the  burning  sands  of  Africa, 
and  from  Gibraltar  to  the  Euphrates,  he  yet  lived  the  simple 
life,  and  was  himself  what  he  advised  others  to  be.  He  came 
to  the  throne  in  the  year  161,  A.  D.,  and  immediately  faced 
the  problem  of  governing  the  civilized  world.  He  faced  con- 
spiracy and  famine  and  plague,  he  grappled  with  questions 
financial,  economic,  political  and  social,  he  fought  barbarous 
tribes  in  the  marshes  of  the  Danube,  he  was  surrounded  by 
petty  ambitions  and  vast  intrigues.  But  he  lived  a  life  so 
sincere  and  serene  and  just  that  the  whole  empire  admired 
him  living  and  worshiped  him  as  a  god  when  dead. 

The  secret  of  his  life  is  embodied  in  his  famous  ''Medita- 
tions," twelve  small  books,  or  chapters,  written  in  Greek  and 
apparently  written  for  himself  alone.  These  are  a  sort  of 
private  journal,  into  which  he  copied  extracts  from  writers 
he  admired,  and  in  which  he  set  down  his  inmost  thoughts. 
He  quoted  from  Homer,  Plato,  Sophocles  and  a  score  of  other 
teachers,  but  his  own  clear  thought,  the  perfect  mirror  of 
an  untroubled  soul,  is  that  which  makes  the  book  immortal. 

The  mediaeval  monks  placed  the  "Meditations"  beside  the 
New  Testament  and  thought  of  Aurelius  as  possessing  a  mind 
"naturally  Christian."  An  Italian  cardinal,  Barberini,  de- 
voted years  to  translating  the  Meditations  into  his  native 
tongue.  French  philosophers,  like  Montesquieu  and  Renan, 
have  sounded  the  praises  of  Aurelius,  and  Captain  John  Smith 
carried  the  Meditations  to  Virginia,  that  in  the  wilds  of  a 
newly  settled  colony  he  might  draw  from  the  Roman  emperor 
courage  and  strength.  The  great  Germans,  Richter  the  poet, 
and  Niebuhr,  the  historian,  drank  deep  of  this  spring.  Mat- 

XXXV 


xxxvi          LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

thew  Arnold  expounds  the  emperor's  ideas  and  Canon  Farrar 
numbers  him  among  the  great  "seekers  after  God."  Any 
man  who  is  not  acquainted  with  the  Meditations  has  missed  a 
treasure-house  that  is  close  beside  him. 

When  we  open  those  twelve  small  books  we  find  that  they 
contain  little  of  what  we  call  now  theology  or  metaphysics, 
but  are  mainly  occupied  with  a  code  of  conduct.  Constantly 
he  insists  on  the  supremacy  of  mind  over  matter,  the  power 
of  the  soul  to  control  the  body  and  its  environment.  "Does 
any  natural  defect  force  you  to  grumble,  to  lay  your  faults 
on  your  constitution,  to  be  stingy  or  a  flatterer,  to  seek  after 
popularity,  to  boast  and  be  disturbed  in  mind  ?  Can  you  say 
that  you  are  so  weakly  made  as  to  be  driven  to  these  prac- 
tices? The  immortal  gods  know  the  contrary."  Again  he 
says:  "Look  inwards,  for  you  have  a  lasting  fountain  of 
happiness  at  home  that  will  always  bubble  up  if  you  will  but 
dig  for  it. ' '  At  times  he  approaches  our  modern  mental  thera- 
peutics: "Do  not  suppose  you  are  hurt  and  your  complaint 
ceases. ' '  Man,  he  holds,  is  so  related  to  deity  that  always  he 
carries  divine  power  within.  Why,  then,  do  not  troubled 
souls  escape  to  the  inner  sanctuary?  "It  is  the  custom  of 
people  to  go  to  unfrequented  places  and  country  places  and 
the  seashore  and  the  mountains  for  retirement. — But  after  all 
this  is  but  a  vulgar  fancy,  for  it  is  in  your  power  to  withdraw 
into  yourself  whenever  you  desire. — Make  frequent  use  of  this 
retirement  and  refresh  your  virtue  in  it." 

Hence  he  glorifies  simplicity  and  sincerity.  He  declares 
Socrates  was  greater  than  Ca?sar.  He  affirms  that  men  do  not 
need  any  things  whatever,  since  virtue  is  the  only  good.  Yet 
this  austere  doctrine  does  not  isolate  him  from  his  fellows; 
he  is  ever  teaching  social  duty,  and  recognizing  the  bonds 
that  bind  kindred  and  friends.  Nature  is  order  and  beauty 
and  law.  Evil  is  but  the  necessary  "sawdust  in  the  "carpen- 
ter's shop."  The  gods  exist:  "I  never  had  a  sight  of  my 
own  soul,  and  yet  I  have  a  great  value  for  it.  And  thus  by 
my  constant  experience  of  the  power  of  the  gods  I  have  a 
proof  of  their  being,  and  a  reason  for  my  veneration."  Death 
according  to  the  emperor  leads  to  the  unknown,  but  it  must 
be  a  return  to  the  infinite  power  whence  we  came,  and  the 
wise  man  cannot  fear  it.  Then  he  sums  up  his  whole  philoso- 


THE  BOOK  OF  AURELIUS  xxxvii 

phy  in  one  unsurpassed  and  memorable  sentence:  "Let  peo- 
ple's tongues  and  actions  be  what  they  will,  my  business  is  to 
be  good,  and  make  the  same  speech  to  myself  that — an  emerald 
should:  'I  must  be  true  emerald  and  keep  my  color.'  ' 

And  when  was  this  lofty  thinking  done  ?  Where  were  these 
calm  cool  sentences  written  ?  At  the  end  of  one  book  we  find 
the  memorandum:  "This  was  written  among  the  Quadi" — 
a  tribe  of  barbarians  in  Bohemia  against  whom  the  emperor 
fought  a  long  campaign.  In  the  general's  tent,  during  a  lull 
in  the  fighting,  or  after  a  long  day's  march,  this  astonishing 
ruler  of  men  wrote  down  the  secret  of  his  peace. 

How  much  do  we  know  of  his  life  ?  The  external  events  are 
given  in  the  standard  histories  of  Rome.  Only  one  blot  rests 
on  his  character, — his  bitter  persecution  of  the  Christians. 
Yet  his  attitude  is  easily  understood.  Christianity  was  the 
only  religion  in  the  empire  that  would  not  compromise.  All 
other  faiths  would  come  in  under  the  emperor's  protection 
and  yield  him  obedience  if  he  would  recognize  their  deities  and 
put  their  statues  in  the  Roman  pantheon.  Christianity  alone 
wanted  no  imperial  recognition  and  refused  to  sacrifice  to 
any  pagan  deity.  Hence  the  Christians  appeared  agnostic, 
obstinate,  disloyal,  inhuman.  Against  them  the  mild  Aurelius 
launched  his  edicts. 

Thus  by  a  strange  perversion  and  tragedy  he  persecuted 
because  he  was  full  of  human  "kindness  and  even  of  affection. 
The  opening  chapter  of  his  Meditations  is  full  of  gratitude 
to  his  father,  his  ancestors,  his  noble  teachers.  "The  example 
of  my  grandfather  Verus  gave  me  a  good  disposition,  not 
prone  to  anger — Rusticus  taught  me  to  write  letters  in  a  plain 
unornamental  style — Apollonius  taught  me — to  maintain  an 
equality  of  temper,  even  in  acute  pains,  and  in  loss  of  chil- 
dren or  tedious  sickness — I  learned  from  Maximus  to  com- 
mand myself — to  turn  off  business  smoothly,  neither  to  hurry 
an  enterprise  nor  go  to  sleep  over  it,  never  to  be  puzzled  or 
dejected,  not  to  be  angry  or  suspicious,  but  ever  ready  to  do 
good  and  to  forgive  and  speak  the  truth — I  have  to  thank 
the  gods  that  I  was  subject  to  the  emperor  my  father,  and 
bred  under  him,  who  was  the  most  proper  person  living  to 
put  me  out  of  conceit  with  pride,  and  to  convince  me  that  it 
is  possible  to  live  in  a  palace — without  richness  and  distinc- 


xxxviii        LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

tion  of  habit,  without  torches,  statues,  or  such  other  marks 
of  royalty  and  state." 

On  the  Capitoline  Hill  in  Rome  there  has  stood  under  the 
open  sky  through  all  the  centuries  the  bronze  figure  of  Marcus 
Aurelius — one  of  the  great  statues  of  the  world.  Mounted  on 
his  horse  the  emperor  with  outstretched  arm  is  apparently 
summoning  his  troops.  But  his  summons  went  far  beyond 
the  Roman  eagles.  His  call  is  to  all  humanity,  to  all  who  wish 
to  live  nobly  and  be  remembered  with  lasting  gratitude. 


THE  EAELIEST  AUTOBIOGRAPHIES 

PERSONAL    RECORDS    SURVIVING    FROM    ANCIENT    BABYLONIA    AND 

EGYPT 

3800  B.  C.-681  B.  C. 
(INTRODUCTORY  NOTE) 

The  remarkable  scientific  explorations  and  investigations  of  the  last 
two  generations  have  reopened  to  us  a  broad  and  intensely  interesting 
knowledge  of  that  earliest  civilization  which  flourished  in  Babylonia  and 
Egypt  for  ages,  while  Europe  was  still  a  savage  wilderness.  Perhaps  the 
most  impressive  of  all  these  recovered  records  of  earliest  mankind  are 
the  autobiographies.  In  Egypt  these  are  usually  epitaphs,  life  records 
carved  or  painted  on  an  ancient  tomb.  In  Babylonia  they  are  more  often 
inscriptions  on  a  building,  statue,  or  public  gift.  The  donor  names  him- 
self and  all  that  he  has  achieved. 

Among  these  ancient  boastful  records  of  self-praise,  the  foremost  place 
both  in  age  and  interest  may  perhaps  be  assigned  to  the  records  of  King 
Sargon,  the  long-forgotten  conqueror  to  whom  tradition  assigns  the 
founding  of  Babylon.  He  has  usually  been  regarded  as  reigning  about 
3800  B.  C.,  though  recent  investigations  have  suggested  changing  this 
date  to  2600  B.  C.  There  may  even  have  been  two  Sargons,  and  the  two 
inscriptions  here  given  may  refer  to  different  kings  having  similar  names, 
But  whether  these  early  conquerors  be  one  or  two,  we  have  here  a  great 
leader's  tale  of  his  childhood  rescue  from  the  river,  a  tale  very  similar 
to  that  of  Moses,  and  told  at  least  a  thousand  years  before  the  great 
Hebrew  teacher  was  born. 

A  similar  chronological  uncertainty  affects  the  next  of  the  autobiog- 
raphies here  given,  the  tomb  record  of  Uni,  an  Egyptian  noble  who  lived 
under  three  successive  Pharaohs  of  the  Sixth  Dynasty.  Scientists  have 
set  the  dates  of  this  dynasty  at  either  3600  or  2600  B.  C.  The  latter  date 
seems  to  be  more  probable;  yet  Lord  Uni,  the  judge,  the  general,  the 
' '  king 's  friend, ' '  may  have  lived  almost  as  long  ago  as  Sargon,  though 

A  V.  1—1  I 


2  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

in  another  land.  Like  Sargon,  Uni  records  his  rise  from  an  inferior 
position ;  only  in  Uni 's  case  we  have  much  more  wealth  of  detail,  a  clear 
picture  of  the  competent,  energetic  official,  mounting  step  by  step. 

Third  among  these  brief  and  publicly  proclaimed  autobiographies  we 
give  one  which  is  far  more  human  and  more  personal.  Unfortunately, 
like  most  of  these  surviving  records,  that  of  the  Egyptian  prince,  Sinuhit, 
is  more  or  less  obscure  to  us,  fragmentary  and  defaced  by  time.  He 
seems  to  have  fled  from  Egypt  through  fear  of  being  assassinated,  and  to 
have  had  many  adventures  among  the  wild  tribes  that  occupied  the  Holy 
Land  before  the  coming  of  the  Israelites.  Sinuhit 's  narrative  no  longer 
exists  in  what  was  probably  its  original  form,  as  a  tomb  record,  but  only 
as  a  manuscript  story.  Evidently  this  account  of  strange  lands  and 
changing  fortunes  became  a  popular  tale,  widely  copied  and  widely  read 
in  ancient  Egypt.  With  it  therefore  we  pass  from  the  mere  boastful 
records  of  kings  and  lords,  to  what  may  fairly  be  called  "literature," 
a  human  narrative  of  hopes  and  fears,  a  writing  which  other  men  cared 
to  cherish  and  reread. 

Our  fourth  and  final  sample  of  these  ancient  approaches  to  auto- 
biography is  by  an  Assyrian  king.  The  Assyrians  were  ferocious  fighters 
who  finally  conquered  both  Egypt  and  Babylon.  Several  of  these  official 
records  of  the  reigiis  of  Assyria's  kings  have  been  recovered.  They  are 
all  similar  in  tone,  frightful  boasts  of  human  holocausts,  of  lands  ravaged 
and  cities  destroyed  to  satisfy  the  vanity  of  the  king  and  of  his  ' '  god. ' ' 
With  childish  simplicity  eaeli  king  praises  his  own  divine  mission  and 
laments  the  wickedness  of  other  nations  in  refusing  to  obey  him.  The 
record  here  selected, .that  of  Sennacherib,  has  special  interest,  because 
the  Bible  mentions  him  and  the  devastation  of  his  army  by  the  Lord, 
in  the  Assyrian  attacks  on  Jlezekiah,  the  king  of  Jerusalem.  The  view- 
point from  which  Hezekiah  saw  the  contest  has  long  been  known  to  us 
from  the  Bible.  The  question  ol  how  Sennacherib  viewed  it  is  here 
answered  by  himself  in  widely  diil'ering  fashion. 


KING  SARGON 

THE  FOUNDER  OP  BABYLON,  THE  "BELOVED  OP  THE  GODS" 

3800  B.  C.  (?) 

SARGON 'S  OWN  RECORD  OP  HIS  YOUTH 

Sargon,  the  powerful  king,  King  of  Agade,  am  I. 

My  mother  was  of  low  degree,  my  father  I  did  not  know. 

The  brother  of  my  father  dwelt  in  the  mountain. 

My  city  was  Azurpirani,  situate  on  the  banks  of  the  Eu- 
phrates. 

My  humble  mother  conceived  me;  in  secret  she  brought  me 
forth. 

She  placed  me  in  a  basket  boat  of  rushes;  with  pitch  she 
closed  my  door. 

She  gave  me  over  to  the  river  which  did  not  rise  over  me. 

The  river  bore  me  along ;  to  Akki,  the  irrigator,  it  carried  me. 

Akki,  the  irrigator,  in  the brought  me  to  land. 

Akki,  the  irrigator,  reared  me  as  his  own  son. 

Akki,  the  irrigator,  appointed  me  his  gardener. 

While  I  was  gardener,  Ishtar  looked  on  me  with  love 

four  years  I  ruled  the  kingdom. 

[The  last  few  lines  of  the  record  are  so  worn  as  to  be  un- 
readable.] 

A  TEMPLE  RECORD  SET  UP  BY  KING  SARGON  OR  SARRU-KIN 

SARGON,  King  of  Agade,  Viceregent  of  Ishtar,1  King  of  Kish, 
high-priest  of  Anum,  King  of  the  land,  great  worshiper  of 
Enlil :  the  city  of  Uruk  he  smote  and  its  wall  he  destroyed. 
"With  the  people  of  Uruk  he  battled  and  he  routed  them. 

1  Ishtar  was  the  chief  goddess  and  Enlil  the  chief  god  of  Sargon.    The 
other  names  are  of  conquered  cities  and  kings. 

3 


•i  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

With  Lugal-zaggisi,  King  of  Uruk,  he  battled  and  he  captured 
him  and  in  fetters  he  led  him  through  the  gate  of  Enlil. 

Sargon,  King  of  Agade,  battled  with  the  man  of  Ur  and 
vanquished  him ;  his  city  he  smote  and  its  wall  he  destroyed. 
E-Ninmar  he  smote  and  its  wall  he  destroyed,  and  its  entire 
territory  from  Lagash  to  the  sea  he  smote.  His  weapons  he 
washed  in  the  sea.  With  the  man  of  Umma  he  battled  and  he 
routed  him  and  smote  his  city  and  destroyed  its  wall. 

Unto  Sargon,  King  of  the  land,  Enlil  gave  no  foe  (no 
equal  adversary)  ;  from  the  upper  sea  to  the  lower  sea,  Enlil 
subjected  the  lands  to  him.  .  .  .2  and  the  man  of  ...  and 
the  man  of  ...  stand  in  attendance  before  Sargon,  King  of 
the  land. 

Sargon,  King  of  the  land,  restored  Kish  (i.  e.  the  people 
of  Kish)  in  its  old  place.  Their  city  he  gave  to  them  as  a 
dwelling  place.  Who  shall  destroy  this  inscription,  may 
Shamash  tear  out  his  foundations  and  destroy  his  seed. 

.  .  .  and  he  gave  unto  him  the  upper  land,  Mari,  larmuti, 
and  Ibla,  as  far  as  the  cedar  forest  and  the  silver  mountains. 
Unto  Sargon,  the  King,  Enlil  did  not  give  an  adversary. 
5400  men  eat  daily  food  before  him.  Whoever  destroys  this 
inscription,  may  Ami  destroy  his  name,  may  Enlil  extirpate 
his  seed. 

1  The  dots  indicate  words  which  our  archaeologists  have  been  unable 
to  translate. 


LORD    UNI 

THE    FIRST    PRIVATE    PERSON    OF    WHOSE    LIFE    WE    HAVE    FULL 

RECORD 

2600  B.   C.    (  ?) 
UNl's   TOMB   INSCRIPTION  IN  EGYPT 

COUNT,  governor  of  the  South,  chamber-attendant,  attached 
to  Nekhen,  lord  of  Nekheb,  sole  companion,  revered  before 
Osiris,  First  of  the  Westerners,  Uni.  He  says : 

I  was  a  child  who  fastened  on  the  girdle  under  the  Majesty 
of  Teti ;  my  office  was  that  of  supervisor  of  1.  .  .  and  I  filled 
the  office  of  inferior  custodian  of  the  domain  of  Pharaoh. 

...  I  was  eldest  of  the  .  .  .  chamber  under  the  Majesty 
of  Pepi.  His  Majesty  appointed  me  to  the  rank  of  com- 
panion and  inferior  prophet  of  his  pyramid-city.  While  my 
office  was  .  .  .  his  Majesty  made  me  judge  attached  to  Nek- 
hen.  He  loved  me 2  more  than  any  servant  of  his.  I 
"heard,"3  being  alone  with  only  the  chief  judge  and  vizier, 
in  every  private  matter  ...  in  the  name  of  the  King,  of  the 
royal  harem  and  of  the  six  courts  of  justice ;  because  the  King 
loved  me  more  than  any  official  of  his,  more  than  any  noble 
of  his,  more  than  any  servant  of  his. 

Then  I  besought  the  Majesty  of  the  King4  that  there  be 
brought  for  me  a  limestone  sarcophagus  from  Troja.5  The 
King  had  the  treasurer  of  the  god  ferry  over,  together  with  a 
troop  of  sailors  under  his  hand,  in  order  to  bring  for  me  this 
sarcophagus  from  Troja ;  and  he  arrived  with  it,  in  a  large 
ship  belonging  to  the  court,  together  with  its  lid,  the  false 

1  This  inscription  is  very,  very  old  and  much  weatherworn.     The  dots 
indicate  untranslatable  words. 

2  Literally,  ' '  his  heart  was  filled  with  me. ' ' 
"Meaning:  heard  cases  in  court  as  judge. 

4  Literally,  ' '  the  Majesty  of  the  lord. ' ' 
*  Quarries  opposite  Memphis,  five  or  six  miles  south  of  Cairo. 

5 


6  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

door;  the  setting,  two  .  .  .  and  one  offering-tablet.  Never 
was  the  like  done  for  any  servant,  for  I  was  excellent  to  the 
heart  of  his  Majesty,  for  I  was  pleasant  to  the  heart  of  his 
Majesty,  for  his  Majesty  loved  me. 

While  I  was  judge,  attached  to  Nekhen,  his  Majesty  ap- 
pointed me  as  sole  companion  and  superior  custodian  of  the 
domain  of  Pharaoh,  and  ...  of  the  four  superior  custodians 
of  the  domain  of  Pharaoh,  who  were  there.  I  did  so  that  his 
Majesty  praised  me.  when  preparing  court,6  when  preparing 
the  King's  journey,  or  when  making  stations.  I  did  through- 
out so  that  his  Majesty  praised  me  for  it  above  everything. 

When  legal  procedure  was  instituted  in  private 7  in  the 
harem  against  the  Queen,8  Imtes,  his  Majesty  caused  me  to 
enter,  in  order  to  hear  the  case  alone.  No  chief  judge  and 
vizier  at  all,  no  prince  at  all  was  there,  but  only  I  alone,  be- 
cause I  was  excellent,  because  I  was  pleasant  to  the  heart  of 
his  Majesty ;  because  his  Majesty  loved  me.  I  alone  was  the 
one  wyho  put  it  in  writing,  together  with  a  single  judge  at- 
tached to  Nekhen ;  while  my  office  was  only  that  of  superior 
custodian  of  the  domain  of  Pharaoh.  Never  before  had  one 
like  me  heard  the  secret  of  the  royal  harem,  except  that  the 
King  caused  me  to  hear  it,  because  I  was  more  excellent  to 
the  heart  of  his  Majesty  than  any  official  of  his,  than  any 
noble  of  his,  than  any  servant  of  his. 

His  Majesty  made  war  on  the  Asiatic  Sand-dwellers,  and 
his  Majesty  made  an  army  of  many  ten  thousands:  in  the 
entire  South,  southward  to  Elephantine,  and  northward  to 
Aphroditopolis ;  in  the  Northland  on  both  sides  entire  in  the 
stronghold,0  and  in  the  midst  of  the  strongholds,  among  the 
Irthet  negroes,  the  Mazoi  negroes,  the  Yam  negroes,  among 
the  Wawat  negroes,  among  the  Kau  negroes,  and  in  the  land 
of  Temeh.10 

•  There  is  a  contrast  here  between  his  duties  at  the  fixed  court  and  mak- 
ing preparations  for  the  King's  journeys.  The  third  reference  is  perhaps 
to  the  duty  of  assigning  court  stations  to  noblemen  according  to  rank. 

7  Literally,  "When  the  matter  was  contested." 

'  Literally,  ' '  great  king  's-wife. ' ' 

9  Some  particular  stronghold  is  apparently  meant;  Erman  suggests  "the 
old  fortress  in  the  eastern  part  of  the  Delta,"  but  this  is  a  conjecture. 

10  This  is  a  list  of  Nubian  lands.    The  discovery  of  another  inscription 
has  thrown  light  on  the  location  of  Yam,  showing  that  the  journey  thither 
find  return  occupied  seven  months. 


LORD  UNI  7 

His  Majesty  sent  me  at  the  head  of  this  army  while  the 
counts,  while  the  wearers  of  the  royal  seal,  while  the  sole  com- 
panions of  the  palace,  while  the  noraarchs  and  commanders 
of  strongholds  belonging  to  the  South  and  the  Northland ;  the 
companions,  the  caravan-conductors,  the  superior  prophets 
belonging  to  the  South  and  the  Northland,  the  overseers  of 
the  crown-possessions,  were  each  at  the  head  of  a  troop  of  the 
South  or  the  Northland,  of  the  strongholds  and  cities  which 
they  commanded,  and  of  the  negroes  of  these  countries.  I 
was  the  one  who  made  for  them  the  plan  while  my  office  was 
only  that  of  superior  custodian  of  the  domain  of  Pharaoh  of 
.  .  .  Not  one  thereof  .  .  .  with  his  neighbor;  not  one  thereof 
plundered  dough  or  sandals  from  the  wayfarer;  not  one 
thereof  took  bread  from  any  city;  not  one  thereof  took  any 
goat  from  any  people.  I  dispatched  them  from  the  Northern 
Isle,  the  Gate  of  Ihotep,  the  bend  "  of  Horus,  Nibmat.  While 
I  was  of  this  rank  .  .  .  everything,  I  inspected  the  number 
of  these  troops,  although  never  had  any  servant  inspected. 

This  army  returned  in  safety,  after  it  had  hacked  up  the 
land  of  the  Sand-dwellers ;  this  army  returned  in  safety,  after 
it  had  destroyed  the  land  of  the  Sand-dwellers;  this  army 
returned  in  safety,  after  it  had  overturned  its  strongholds; 
this  army  returned  in  safety,  after  it  had  cut  down  its  figs 
and  its  vines;  this  army  returned  in  safety,  after  it  had 
thrown  fire  upon  all  its  foes;  this  army  returned  in  safety, 
after  it  had  slain  troops  therein,  in  many  ten  thousands ;  this 
army  returned  in  safety,  after  it  had  carried  away  therefrom 
a  great  multitude  as  living  captives.  His  Majesty  praised 
me  on  account  of  it  above  everything. 

His  Majesty  sent  me  to  lead  this  army  five  times,  in  order 
to  traverse  the  land  of  the  Sand-dwellers  at  each  of  their 
rebellions,  with  these  troops.  I  did  so  that  his  Majesty  praised 
me  on  account  of  it. 

When  it  was  said  there  were  revolters  because  of  a  matter 
among  these  barbarians  in  the  land  of  Gazelle-nose,  I  crossed 
over  in  troop-ships  with  these  troops,  and  I  voyaged  to  the 
back  of  the  height  of  the  ridge  12  on  the  north  of  the  Sand- 

11  A  river  bend,  or  a  district. 

12  The  Palestinian  highlands.     Uni  must  have  landed  a  little  farther 
north  and  reached  the  highlands  of  southern  Palestine. 


8  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

dwellers.  "When  this  army  had  been  brought  in  the  highway, 
I  came  and  smote  them  all  and  every  revolter  among  them 
was  slain.13 

When  I  was  master  of  the  footstool  of  the  palace  and 
sandal-bearer,  the  King  of  Upper  and  Lower  Egypt,  Mernere, 
my  lord,  who  lives  forever,  made  me  count,  and  governor  of 
the  South,  southward  to  Elephantine,  and  northward  to 
Aphroditopolis ; 14  for  I  was  excellent  to  the  heart  of  his 
Majesty,  for  I  was  pleasant  to  the  heart  of  his  Majesty,  for 
his  Majesty  loved  me. 

"When  I  was  master  of  the  footstool  and  sandal-bearer,  his 
Majesty  praised  me  for  the  watchfulness  and  vigilance,  which 
I  showed  in  the  place  of  audience,  above  his  every  official, 
above  his  every  noble,  above  his  every  servant.  Never  before 
was  this  office  conferred  upon  any  servant.  I  acted  as  gov- 
ernor of  the  South  to  his  satisfaction.  Not  one  therein  .  .  . 
with  his  neighbor.  I  accomplished  all  tasks;  I  numbered 
everything  that  is  counted  to  the  credit  of  the  court  in  this 
South  twice;  all  the  corvee  that  is  counted  to  the  credit  of 
the  court  in  this  South  twice.15  I  performed  the  ...  in 
this  South;  never  before  was  the  like  done  in  this  South.  I 
did  throughout  so  that  his  Majesty  praised  me  for  it. 

His  Majesty  sent  me  to  Ibhet,18  to  bring  the  sarcophagus 
named:  " Chest-of-the-Living, "  together  with  its  lid  and  the 
costly,  splendid  pyramidion  for  the  pyramid  called :  ' '  Mer- 
nere-Shines-and-is-Beautiful,"  of  the  Queen.17 

u  The  end  of  Uni  's  career  under  Pepi  I.  is  marked  by  a  line  of  separa- 
tion on  the  stone. 

11  The  northern  and  southern  limits  of  Upper  Egypt. 

14  The  meaning  is  that  Uni  twice  made  a  census  of  all  the  royal  prop- 
erties. 

16  This  unknown  quarry  must  be  in  the  vicinity  of  Assuan,  where  black 
granite  is  found;   the  material  of  the  sarcophagus   (not  given  here)   as 
discovered  in  Mernere 's  pyramid  at  Sakhara  in  January,  1881,  by  Mari- 
etta (just  a  few  days  before  his  death),  is  a  fine  black  granite.    The  lid 
mentioned  in  our  text  is  pushed  back,  but  still  lying  on  the  sarcophagus, 
within  which  Marietta's  native  assistant,  Mustapha,  found  the  body  of 
the  King  Mernere,  now  in  the  Cairo  Museum.     The  "pyramidion,"  or 
final   capstone   of   the   pyramid,   was   of   finer   material   than    the   other 
masonry;   it  is  no  longer  preserved,  but  tomb-paintings  often  show  this 
final  block  colored  black  by  the  artist. 

17  The  exact  place  and  meaning  of  the  last  three  worda  are  uncertain : 
possibly  they  refer  to  a  burial-place  of  the  Queen  in  connection  with  the 
pyramid. 


LORD  UNI  9 

His  Majesty  sent  me  to  Elephantine  18  to  bring  a  false  door 
of  granite,  together  with  its  offering-tablet,  doors  and  settings 
of  granite ;  to  bring  doorwa}rs  and  offering-tablets  of  granite, 
belonging  to  the  upper  chamber  of  the  pyramid  called : 
"Mernere-Shines-and-is-Beautiful,"  of  the  Queen.  Then  I 
sailed  down-stream  to  the  pyramid  called:  ' ' Mernere-Shines- 
and-is-Beautiful,"  with  6  cargo-boats,  3  tow-boats  and  3  ... 
boats  to  only  one  war-ship.  Never  had  Ibhet  and  Elephantine 
been  visited  in  the  time  of  any  kings  with  only  one  war-ship. 
Whatsoever  his  Majesty  commanded  me  I  carried  out  com- 
pletely according  to  all  that  his  Majesty  commanded  me. 

His  Majesty  sent  me  to  Hatnub  to  bring  a  huge  offering- 
table  of  hard  stone  of  Hatnub.  I  brought  down  this  offering- 
table  for  him  in  only  17  days,  it  having  been  quarried  in 
Hatnub,  and  I  had  it  proceed  down-stream  in  this  cargo-boat. 
I  hewed  for  him  a  cargo-boat  of  acacia  wood  of  60  cubits  in 
its  length,  and  30  cubits  in  its  breadth,  built  in  only  17  days, 
in  the  third  month  of  the  third  season  (eleventh  month). 
Although  there  was  no  water  on  the  ...  I  landed  in  safety 
at  the  pyramid  called:  "Mernere-Shines-and-is-Beautiful"; 
and  the  whole  was  carried  out  by  my  hand,  according  to  the 
mandate  which  the  Majesty  of  my  Lord  had  commanded  me. 

His  Majesty  sent  me  to  dig  5  canals19  in  the  South  and 
to  make  3  cargo-boats  and  4  tow-boats  of  acacia  wood  of 
Wawat.  Then  the  negro  chiefs  of  Irthet,  Wawat,  Yam,  and 
Mazoi  drew  timber  therefor,  and  I  did  the  whole  in  only  one 
year.  They  were  launched  and  laden  with  very  large  granite 
blocks  for  the  pyramid  called:  ' ' Mernere-Shines-and-is- 
Beautiful."  I  then  .  .  .  for  the  palace  in  all  these  5  canals, 
because  I  honored,  because  I  .  .  .  ,  because  I  praised  the 
fame  of  the  King  of  Upper  and  Lower  Egypt,  Mernere,  who 
lives  forever,  more  than  all  gods,  and  because  I  carried  out 
everything  according  to  the  mandate  which  his  spirit  com- 
manded me. 

I  was  one  beloved  of  his  father,  and  praised  of  his  mother ; 
first-born  .  .  .  pleasant  to  his  brothers,  the  count,  the  real 
governor,  of  the  South,  revered  by  Osiris,  Uni. 

18  This  voyage  was  made  in  connection  with  the  preceding,  as  Ibhet 
could  not  have  been  far  from  Elephantine. 

18  These  must  be  for  passing  the  cataracts;  as  was  the  canal  of  Sesostris 
III. 


PRINCE    SINUHIT 

AN  EGYPTIAN  ADVENTURER  IN  THE  WILDS  OP  ANCIENT  PALESTINE 

2000    B.    C. 
THE  MEMOIRS  OF  SINUHIT,   AN  E6YPTIAN  PAPYRUS  1 

THE  hereditary  prince,  royal  sealbearer,  confidential  friend, 
judge,  "keeper  of  the  gate  of  the  foreigners,  true  and  beloved 
royal  acquaintance,  the  royal  follower  Sinuhit  says: 

I  attended  my  lord  as  a  follower  of  the  King,  of  the  house 
of  the  hereditary  princess,  the  greatly  favored,  the  royal  wife, 
Ankhet-Usertesen,  who  shares  the  dwelling  of  the  royal  sou 
Amenemhet  in  Kanefer. 

In  the  thirtieth  year,  the  month  Paophi,  the  seventh  day 
the  god  entered  his  horizon,  the  king  Sehotepabra  2  flew  up  to 
heaven  and  joined  the  sun's  disk,  the  follower  of  the  god  met 
his  maker.  The  palace  was  silenced,  and  in  mourning,  the 
great  gates  were  closed,  the  courtiers  crouching  on  the 
ground,  the  people  in  hushed  mourning. 

His  Majesty  had  sent  a  great  army  with  the  nobles  to  the 
land  of  the  Temehu  (Lybia),  his  son  and  heir,  the  good  god 
King  Sesostris  as  their  leader.  Now  he  was  returning,  and 
had  brought  away  living  captives  and  all  kinds  of  cattle  with- 
out end.  The  councilors  of  the  palace  had  sent  to  the  West 
to  let  the  King  know  the  matter  that  had  come  to  pass  in  the 
inner  hall.  The  messenger  was  to  meet  him  on  the  road,  and 
reach  him  at  the  time  of  evening:  the  matter  was  urgent.  "A 
hawk  had  soared  with  his  followers."  Thus  said  he,  not  to 
let  the  army  know  of  it.  Even  if  the  royal  sons  who  com- 
manded in  that  army  send  a  message,  he  was  not  to  speak  to 
a  single  one  of  them.  But  I  was  standing  near,  and  heard 
his  voice  while  he  was  speaking.  I  fled  far  away,  my  heart 

1  From  the  translation  of  Prof.  Flinders-Petrie. 
"This  is  King  Amenembet  I. 

10 


PRINCE  SINUHIT  11 

beating,  ray  arms  failing,  trembling  had  fallen  on  all  my 
limbs.3  I  turned  about  in  running  to  seek  a  place  to  hide  me, 
and  I  threw  myself  between  two  bushes,  to  wait  while  they 
should  pass  by.  Then  I  turned  me  toward  the  south,  not 
from  wishing  to  come  into  this  place — for  I  knew  not  if 
war  was  declared — nor  even  thinking  a  wish  to  live  after  this 
sovereign,  I  turned  my  back  to  the  sycamore,  I  reached  Shi- 
Seneferu,  and  rested  on  the  open  field.  In  the  morning  I 
went  on  and  overtook  a  man,  who  passed  by  the  edge  of  the 
road.  He  asked  of  me  mercy,  for  he  feared  me.  By  the 
evening  I  drew  near  to  Kher-ahau  (old  Cairo),  and  I  crossed 
the  river  on  a  raft  without  a  rudder.  Carried  over  by  the 
west  wind,  I  passed  over  to  the  east  to  the  quarries  of  Aku  and 
the  land  of  the  goddess  Herit,  mistress  of  the  red  mountain 
(Gebel  Ahmar).  Then  I  fled  on  foot,  northward,  and 
reached  the  walls  of  the  prince,  built  to  repel  the  Sati.  I 
crouched  in  a  bush  for  fear  of  being  seen  by  the  guards, 
changed  each  day,  who  watch  on  the  top  of  the  fortress.  I 
took  my  way  by  night,  and  at  the  lighting  of  the  day  I  reached 
Peten,  and  turned  me  toward  the  valley  of  Kemur.  Then 
thirst  hastened  me  on ;  I  dried  up,  and  my  throat  narrowed, 
and  I  said,  "This  is  the  taste  of  death."  When  I  lifted  up 
my  heart  and  gathered  strength,  I  heard  a  voice  and  the  low- 
ing of  cattle.  I  saw  men  of  the  Sati,  and  one  of  them — a. 
friend  unto  Egypt — knew  me.  Behold  he  gave  me  water 
and  boiled  me  milk,  and  I  went  with  him  to  his  camp ;  they 
did  me  good,  and  one  tribe  passed  me  on  to  another.  I  passed 
on  to  Sun,  and  reached  the  land  of  Adim  (Edom). 

When  I  had  dwelt  there  half  a  year  Amu-an-shi — who  is 
the  prince  of  the  Upper  Tenu — sent  for  me  and  said: 
"Dwell  thou  with  me  that  thou  mayest  hear  the  speech  of 
Egypt. "  lie  said  thus  for  that  he  knew  of  my  excellence, 
and  had  heard  tell  of  my  worth,  for  men  of  Egypt  who  were 
there  with  him  bore  witness  of  me.  Behold  he  said  to  me: 
"For  what  cause  hast  thou  come  hither?  Has  a  matter 
come  to  pass  in  the  palace  ?  Has  the  King  of  the  two  lands, 

*  Apparently  when  the  new  King  Sesostris  learned  of  his  succession  to 
the  throne,  he  was  expected  to  slay  all  his  brothers  or  other  relatives 
who  might  oppose  his  claim  or  become  his  rivals.  Hence  Sinuhit,  learning 
by  chance  of  the  message,  feels  himself  important  enough  to  be  in  danger 
and  seeks  safety  in  sudden  flight. 


12  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

Sehetepabra  gone  to  heaven?  That  which  has  happened 
about  this  is  not  known."  But  I  answered  with  concealment, 
and  said:  "When  I  came  from  the  land  of  the  Tamahu,  and 
my  desires  were  there  changed  in  me,  if  I  fled  away  it  was 
not  by  reason  of  remorse  that  I  took  the  way  of  a  fugitive ;  I 
have  not  failed  in  my  duty,  my  mouth  has  not  said  any  bitter 
words,  I  have  not  heard  any  evil  counsel,  my  name  has  not 
come  into  the  mouth  of  a  magistrate.  I  know  not  by  what  I 
have  been  led  into  this  land."  And  Amu-an-shi  said: 
"This  is  by  the  will  of  the  god  (King  of  Egypt),  for  what 
is  a  land  like  if  it  know  not  that  excellent  god,  of  whom  the 
dread  is  upon  the  lands  of  strangers,  as  they  dread  Sekhet  in 
a  year  of  pestilence?"  I  spake  to  him,  and  replied:  "For- 
give me,  his  son  now  enters  the  palace,  and  has  received  the 
heritage  of  his  father.  He  is  a  god  who  has  none  like  him, 
and  there  is  none  before  him.  He  is  a  master  of  wisdom, 
prudent  in  his  designs,  excellent  in  his  decrees,  with  good- 
will to  him  who  goes  or  who  comes ;  he  subdued  the  land  of 
strangers  while  his  father  yet  lived  in  his  palace,  and  he  ren- 
dered account  of  that  which  his  father  destined  him  to  per- 
form. He  is  a  brave  man,  who  verily  strikes  with  his  sword ; 
a  valiant  one,  who  has  not  his  equal ;  he  springs  upon  the  bar- 
barians, and  throws  himself  on  the  spoilers;  he  breaks  the 
horns  and  weakens  the  hands,  and  those  whom  he  smites  can 
not  raise  the  buckler.  He  is  fearless,  and  dashes  the  heads, 
and  none  can  stand  before  him.  He  is  swift  of  foot,  to 
destroy  him  who  flies;  and  none  who  flees  from  him  reaches 
his  home.  His  heart  is  strong  in  his  time;  he  is  a  lion  who 
strikes  with  the  claw,  and  never  has  he  turned  his  back. 
His  heart  is  closed  to  pity ;  and  when  he  sees  multitudes,  he 
leaves  none  to  live  behind  him.  He  is  a  valiant  one  who 
springs  in  front  when  he  sees  resistance ;  he  is  a  warrior  who 
rejoices  when  he  flies  on  the  barbarians.  He  seizes  the  buck- 
ler, he  rushes  forward,  he  never  needs  to  strike  again,  he 
slays  and  none  can  turn  his  lance ;  and  when  he  takes  the 
bow  the  barbarians  flee  from  his  arms  like  dogs ;  for  the  great 
goddess  has  given  to  him  to  strike  those  who  know  her  not ; 
and  if  he  reaches  forth  he  spares  none,  and  leaves  naught 
behind.  He  is  a  friend  of  great  sweetness,  who  knows  how  to 
gain  love;  his  land  loves  him  more  than  itself,  and  rejoices  in 


PRINCE  SINUHIT  13 

him  more  than  in  its  own  god;  men  and  women  run  to  his 
call.  A  king,  he  has  ruled  from  his  birth ;  he,  from  his  birth, 
has  increased  births,  a  sole  being,  a  divine  essence,  by  whom 
this  land  rejoices  to  be  governed.  He  enlarges  the  borders 
of  the  South,  but  he  covets  not  the  lands  of  the  North :  he  does 
not  smite  the  Sati,  nor  crush  the  Nemau-shau.  If  he  descends 
here,  let  him  know  thy  name,  by  the  homage  which  thou  wilt 
pay  to  his  Majesty.  For  he  refuses  not  to  bless  the  land 
which  obeys  him." 

And  he  replied  to  me:  "Egypt  is  indeed  happy  and  well 
settled ;  behold  thou  art  far  from  it,  but  whilst  thou  art  with 
me  I  will  do  good  unto  thee. ' '  And  he  placed  me  before  his 
children,  he  married  his  eldest  daughter  to  me,  and  gave  me 
the  choice  of  all  his  land,  even  among  the  best  of  that  which 
he  had  on  the  border  of  the  next  land.  It  is  a  goodly  land : 
laa  is  its  name.  There  are  figs  and  grapes;  there  is  wine 
commoner  than  water;  abundant  is  the  honey,  many  are  its 
olives ;  and  all  fruits  are  upon  its  trees ;  there  are  barley  and 
wheat,  and  cattle  of  kinds  without  end.  This  was  truly  a 
great  thing  that  he  granted  me,  when  the  prince  came  to 
invest  me,  and  establish  me  as  prince  of  a  tribe  in  the  best  of 
his  land.  I  had  my  continual  portion  of  bread  and  of  wine 
each  day,  of  cooked  meat,  of  roasted  fowl,  as  well  as  the  wild 
game  which  I  took,  or  which  was  brought  to  me,  besides  what 
my  dogs  captured.  They  made  me  much  butter,  and  pre- 
pared milk  of  all  kinds.  I  passed  many  years,  the  children 
that  I  had  became  great,  each  ruling  his  tribe.  "When  a  mes- 
senger went  or  came  to  the  palace  he  turned  aside  from  the 
way  to  come  to  me ;  for  I  helped  every  man.  I  gave  water 
to  the  thirsty,  I  set  on  his  way  him  who  went  astray,  and  I 
rescued  the  robbed.  The  Sati  who  went  far,  to  strike  and 
turn  back  the  princes  of  other  lands,  I  ordained  their  goings ; 
for  the  Prince  of  the  Tenu  for  many  years  appointed  me  to 
be  general  of  his  soldiers.  In  every  land  which  I  attacked  I 
played  the  champion,  I  took  the  cattle,  I  led  away  the  vassals, 
I  carried  off  the  slaves,  I  slew  the  people,  by  my  sword,  my 
bow,  my  marches,  and  my  good  devices.  I  was  excellent  to 
the  heart  of  my  prince ;  he  loved  me  when  he  knew  my  power, 
and  set  me  over  his  children  when  he  saw  the  strength  of 
my  arms. 


14 

A  champion  of  the  Tenu  came  to  defy  me  in  my  tent:  a 
bold  man  without  equal,  for  he  had  vanquished  the  whole 
country.  lie  said,  "Let  Sinuhit  fight  with  me";  for  he 
desired  to  overthrow  me,  he  thought  to  take  my  cattle  for  his 
tribe.  The  prince  counseled  with  me.  I  said:  "I  know 
him  not.  I  certainly  am  not  of  his  degree,  I  hold  me  far 
from  his  place.  Have  I  ever  opened  his  door,  or  leaped  his 
fence  ?  It  is  some  envious  jealousy  from  seeing  me ;  does  he 
think  that  I  am  like  some  steer  among  the  cows,  whom  the  bull 
overthrows?  If  this  is  a  wretch  who  thinks  to  enrich  him- 
self at  my  cost,  not  a  Bedawi  and  a  Bedawi  fit  for  fight,  then 
let  us  put  the  matter  to  judgment.  Verily  a  true  bull  loves 
battle,  but  a  vainglorious  bull  turns  his  back  for  fear  of 
contest ;  if  he  has  a  heart  for  combat,  let  him  speak  what  he 
pleases.  Will  God  forget  what  he  has  ordained,  and  how 
shall  that  be  known?"  I  lay  down;  and  when  I  had  rested 
I  strung  my  bow,  I  made  ready  my  arrows,  I  loosened  my 
poniard,  I  furbished  my  arms.  At  dawn  the  land  of  the 
Tenu  came  together ;  it  had  gathered  its  tribes  and  called  all 
the  neighboring  people,  it  spake  of  nothing  but  the  fight. 
Each  heart  burned  for  me,  men  and  women  crying  out ;  for 
each  heart  was  troubled  for  me,  and  they  said:  "Is  there 
another  strong  one  who  would  fight  with  him?  Behold  the 
adversary  has  a  buckler,  a  battle-ax,  and  an  armful  of  jave- 
lins." Then  I  drew  him  to  the  attack;  I  turned  aside  his 
arrows,  and  they  struck  the  ground  in  vain.  One  drew  near 
to  the  other,  and  he  fell  on  me,  and  then  I  shot  him.  My 
arrow  fastened  in  his  neck,  he  cried  out,  and  fell  on  his  face: 
I  drove  his  lance  into  him,  and  raised  my  shout  of  victory  on 
his  back.  Whilst  all  the  men  of  the  land  rejoiced,  I,  and  his 
vassals  whom  he  had  oppressed,  gave  thanks  unto  Mentu. 
This  prince,  Amu-an-shi,  embraced  me.  Then  I  carried  off 
his  goods  and  took  his  cattle,  that  which  he  had  wished  to  do 
to  me,  I  did  even  so  unto  him ;  I  seized  that  which  was  in  his 
tent,  I  spoiled  his  dwelling.  As  time  went  on  I  increased 
the  richness  of  my  treasures  and  the  number  of  my  cattle. 

PETITION  TO  THE  KING  OF  EGYPT 

"Now  behold  what  the  god  has  done  for  me  who  trusted 
in  him.  Having  once  fled  away,  yet  now  there  is  a  witness  of 


PRINCE  SINUHIT  15 

me  in  the  palace.  Once  having  fled  away,  as  a  fugitive,  now 
all  in  the  palace  give  unto  me  a  good  name.  After  that  I  had 
been  dying  of  hunger,  now  I  give  bread  to  those  around.  I 
had  left  my  land  naked,  and  now  I  am  clothed  in  fine  linen. 
After  having  been  a  wanderer  without  followers,  now  I  pos- 
sess many  serfs.  My  house  is  fine,  my  land  wide,  my  mem- 
ory is  established  in  the  temple  of  all  the  gods.  And  let  this 
flight  obtain  thy  forgiveness ;  that  I  may  be  appointed  in  the 
palace;  that  I  may  see  the  place  where  my  heart  dwells. 
How  great  a  thing  is  it  that  my  body  should  be  embalmed  in 
the  land  where  I  was  born !  To  return  there  is  happiness. 
I  have  made  offering  to  God  to  grant  me  this  thing.  His 
heart  suffers  who  has  run  away  unto  a  strange  land.  Let  him 
hear  the  prayer  of  him  who  is  afar  off,  that  he  may  revisit  the 
place  of  his  birth,  and  the  place  from  which  he  removed. 

"May  the  King  of  Egypt  be  gracious  to  me  that  I  may 
live  of  his  favor.  And  I  render  my  homage  to  the  mistress 
of  the  land,  who  is  in  his  palace ;  may  I  hear  the  news  of  her 
children.  Thus  will  my  limbs  grow  young  again.  Now  old 
age  comes,  feebleness  seizes  me,  my  eyes  are  heavy,  my  arms 
are  feeble,  my  legs  will  not  move,  my  heart  is  slow.  Death 
draws  nigh  to  me,  soon  shall  they  lead  me  to  the  city  of 
eternity.  Let  me  follow  the  mistress  of  all  (the  Queen,  his 
former  mistress)  ;  lo!  let  her  tell  me  the  excellencies  of  her 
children;  may  she  bring  eternity  to  me." 

Then  the  Majesty  of  King  Kheper-ka-re,4  the  blessed,  spake 
upon  this  my  desire  that  I  had  made  to  him.  His  Majesty 
sent  unto  me  with  presents  from  the  King,  that  he  might 
enlarge  the  heart  of  his  servant,  like  unto  the  province  of  any 
strange  land ;  and  the  royal  sons  who  are  in  the  palace 
addressed  themselves  unto  me. 

COPY  OF  THE  DECREE  WHICH  WAS  BROUGHT — TO  ME  WHO  SPEAK 
TO  YOU TO   LEAD   ME   BACK   INTO   EGYPT 

"The  Horus,  life  of  births,  lord  of  the  crowns,  life  of 
births,  King  of  Upper  and  Lower  Egypt,  Kheper-ka-re,  son 
of  the  Sun,  Amenemhet,  ever  living  unto  eternity.  Order 
for  the  follower  Sinuhit.  Behold  this  order  of  the  King  is 
sent  to  thee  to  instruct  thee  of  his  will. 

4  The  religious  name  of  Sesostris  I. 


16  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

"Now,  although  thou  hast  gone  through  strange  lands  from 
Adim  to  Tenu,  and  passed  from  one  country  to  another  at  the 
wish  of  thy  heart — behold,  what  hast  thou  done,  or  what  has 
been  done  against  thee,  that  is  amiss?  Moreover,  thou 
reviledst  not;  but  if  thy  word  was  denied,  thou  didst  not 
speak  again  in  the  assembly  of  the  nobles,  even  if  thou  wast 
desired.  Now,  therefore,  that  thou  hast  thought  on  this  mat- 
ter which  has  come  to  thy  mind,  let  thy  heart  not  change 
again;  for  this  thy  Heaven  (Queen),  who  is  in  the  palace,  is 
fixed,  she  is  flourishing,  she  is  enjoying  the  best  in  the  king- 
dom of  the  land,  and  her  children  are  in  the  chambers  of  the 
palace. 

"Leave  all  the  riches  that  thou  hast,  and  that  are  with 
thee,  altogether.  When  thou  shalt  come  into  Egypt  behold 
the  palace,  and  when  thou  shalt  enter  the  palace  bow  thy  face 
to  the  ground  before  the  Great  House;  thou  shalt  be  chief 
among  the  companions.  And  day  by  day  behold  thou  grow- 
est  old;  thy  vigor  is  lost,  and  thou  thinkest  on  the  day  of 
burial.  Thou  shalt  see  thyself  come  to  the  blessed  state,  they 
shall  give  thee  the  bandages  from  the  hand  of  Tait,  the  night 
of  applying  the  oil  of  embalming.  They  shall  follow  thy 
funeral,  and  visit  the  tomb  on  the  day  of  burial,  which  shall 
be  in  a  gilded  case,  the  head  painted  with  blue,  a  canopy  of 
cypress  wood  above  thee,  and  oxen  shall  draw  thee,  the  singers 
going  before  thee,  and  they  shall  dance  the  funeral  dance. 
The  weepers  crouching  at  the  door  of  thy  tomb  shall  cry 
aloud  the  prayers  for  offerings:  they  shall  slay  victims  for 
thee  at  the  door  of  thy  pit ;  and  thy  pyramid  shall  be  carved 
in  white  stone,  in  the  company  of  the  royal  children.  Thus 
thou  shalt  not  die  in  a  strange  land,  nor  be  buried  by  the 
Amu;  thou  shalt  not  be  laid  in  a  sheepskin  when  thou  art 
buried ;  all  people  shall  beat  the  earth,  and  lament  on  thy 
body  when  thou  goest  to  the  tomb." 

When  this  order  came  to  me,  I  was  in  the  midst  of  my  tribe. 
When  it  was  read  unto  me,  I  threw  me  on  the  dust,  I  threw 
dust  in  my  hair ;  I  went  around  my  tent  rejoicing,  and  saying: 
"How  may  it  be  that  such  a  thing  is  done  to  the  servant,  who 
with  a  rebellious  heart  has  fled  to  strange  lands?  Now  with 
an  excellent  deliverance,  and  mercy  delivered  me  from  death, 
thou  shalt  cause  me  to  end  my  days  in  the  palace." 


PRINCE  SINUHIT  17 

COPY   OF   THE  ANSWER  TO   THIS  ORDER 

"The  follower  Sinuhit  says:  In  excellent  peace  above 
everything  consider  of  this  flight  that  he  made  here  in  his 
ignorance;  Thou,  the  Good  God,  Lord  of  both  Lands,  Loved 
of  Re,  Favorite  of  Mentu,  the  lord  of  Thebes,  and  of  Amen, 
lord  of  thrones  of  the  lands,  of  Sebek,  Re,  Horus,  Hathor, 
Atmu,  and  of  his  fellow-gods,  of  Sopdu,  Neferbiu,  Samsetu, 
Horus ;  lord  of  the  east,  and  of  the  royal  uraeus  which  rules  on 
thy  head,  of  the  chief  gods  of  the  waters,  of  Min,  Horus  of  the 
desert,  Urrit,  mistress  of  Punt,  Nut,  Harnekht,  Re,  all  the 
gods  of  the  land  of  Egypt  and  of  the  isles  of  the  sea.  May 
they  give  life  and  peace  to  thy  nostril,  may  they  load  thee 
with  their  gifts,  may  they  give  to  thee  eternity  without  end, 
everlastingness  without  bound.  May  the  fear  of  thee  be 
doubled  in  the  lands  of  the  deserts.  Mayest  thou  subdue  the 
circuit  of  the  sun's  disk.  This  is  the  prayer  to  his  master  of 
the  humble  servant  who  is  saved  from  a  foreign  land. 

"0  wise  King,  the  wise  words  which  are  pronounced  in  the 
wisdom  of  the  Majesty  of  the  sovereign,  thy  humble  servant 
fears  to  tell.  It  is  a  great  thing  to  repeat.  O  great  God,  like 
unto  Re  in  fulfilling  that  to  which  he  has  set  his  hand,  what 
am  I  that  he  should  take  thought  for  me  ?  Am  I  among  those 
whom  he  regards,  and  for  whom  he  arranges?  Thy  Majesty 
is  as  Horus,  and  the  strength  of  thine  arms  extends  to  all 
lands. 

"Then  let  his  Majesty  bring  Maki  of  Adma,  Kenti-au-ush 
of  Khenti-keshu,  and  Tenus  from  the  two  lands  of  the 
Fenkhu;  these  are  the  princes  who  bear  witness  of  me  as  to 
all  that  has  passed,  out  of  love  for  thyself.  Does  not  Tenu 
believe  that  it  belongs  to  thee  like  thy  dogs?  Behold  this 
flight  that  I  have  made :  I  did  not  have  it  in  my  heart ;  it  was 
like  the  leading  of  a  dream,  as  a  man  of  Adehi  (delta)  sees 
himself  in  Abu  (Elephantine),  as  a  man  of  the  plain  of  Egypt 
who  sees  himself  in  the  deserts.  There  was  no  fear,  there  was 
no  hastening  after  me;  I  did  not  listen  to  an  evil  plot,  my 
name  was  not  heard  in  the  mouth  of  the  magistrate ;  but  my 
limbs  went,  my  feet  wandered,  my  heart  drew  me;  my  god 
commanded  this  flight,  and  drew  me  on;  but  I  am  not  stiff- 
necked.  Does  a  man  fear  when  he  sees  his  own  land?  Re 
A.  v.  1—2 


18  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

spread  thy  fear  over  the  land,  thy  terrors  in  every  strange 
land.  Behold  me  now  in  the  palace,  behold  me  in  this  place; 
and  lo !  thou  art  he  who  is  over  all  the  horizon ;  the  sun  rises 
at  thy  pleasure,  the  water  in  the  rivers  is  drunk  at  thy  will, 
the  wind  in  heaven  is  breathed  at  thy  saying. 

"I  who  speak  to  thee  shall  leave  my  goods  to  the  genera- 
tions to  follow  in  this  land.  And  as  to  this  messenger  who 
is  come,  even  let  thy  Majesty  do  as  pleaseth  him,  for  one  lives 
by  the  breath  that  thou  givest.  O  thou  who  art  beloved  of 
Re,  of  Horns,  and  of  Hathor ;  Mentu,  lord  of  Thebes,  desires 
that  thy  august  nostril  should  live  forever." 

I  made  a  feast  in  laa,  to  pass  over  my  goods  to  my  children. 
My  eldest  son  was  leading  my  tribe,  all  my  goods  passed  to 
him,  and  I  gave  him  my  corn  and  all  my  cattle,  my  fruit,  and 
all  my  pleasant  trees.  When  I  had  taken  my  road  to  the 
south,  and  arrived  at  the  roads  of  Horus,  the  officer  who  was 
over  the  garrison  sent  a  messenger  to  the  palace  to  give  notice. 
His  Majesty  sent  the  good  overseer  of  the  peasants  of  the 
King's  domains,  and  boats  laden  with  presents  from  the  King 
for  the  Sati  who  had  come  to  conduct  me  to  the  roads  of 
Horus.  I  spoke  to  each  one  by  his  name,  and  I  gave  the  pres- 
ents to  each  as  was  intended.  I  received  and  I  returned  the 
salutation,  and  I  continued  thus  until  I  reached  the  city  of 
Thetu. 

When  the  land  was  brightened,  and  the  new  day  began, 
four  men  came  with  a  summons  for  me ;  and  the  four  men 
went  to  lead  me  to  the  palace.  I  saluted  with  both  my  hands 
on  the  ground ;  the  royal  children  stood  at  the  courtyard  to 
conduct  me:  the  courtiers  who  were  to  lead  me  to  the  hall 
brought  me  on  the  way  to  the  royal  chamber. 

I  found  his  Majesty  on  the  great  throne  in  the  hall  of  pale 
gold.  Then  I  threw  myself  on  my  belly;  this  god,  in  whose 
presence  I  was,  knew  me  not.  He  questioned  me  graciously, 
but  I  was  as  one  seized  with  blindness,  my  spirit  fainted, 
my  limbs  failed,  my  heart  was  no  longer  in  my  bosom,  and  I 
knew  the  difference  between  life  and  death.  His  Majesty 
said  to  one  of  the  companions,  "Lift  him  up,  let  him  speak 
to  me."  And  his  Majesty  said:  "Behold  thou  hast  come, 
thou  hast  trodden  the  deserts,  thou  hast  played  the  wanderer. 


PRINCE  SINUHIT  19 

Decay  falls  on  thee,  old  age  has  reached  thee;  it  is  no  small 
thing  that  thy  body  should  be  embalmed,  that  the  Pedtiu  shall 
not  bury  thee.  Do  not,  do  not,  be  silent  and  speechless;  tell 
thy  name;  is  it  fear  that  prevents  thee?"  I  answered  in 
reply:  "I  fear,  what  is  it  that  my  lord  has  said  that  I 
should  answer  it  ?  I  have  not  called  on  me  the  hand  of  God, 
but  it  is  terror  in  my  body,  like  that  which  brings  sudden 
death.  Now  behold  I  am  before  thee;  thou  art  life;  let  thy 
Majesty  do  what  pleaseth  him." 

The  royal  children  were  brought  in,  and  his  Majesty  said 
to  the  Queen,  "Behold  thou  Sinuhit  has  come  as  an  Amu, 
whom  the  Sati  have  produced." 

She  cried  aloud,  and  the  royal  children  spake  with  one 
voice,  saying,  before  his  Majesty,  "Verily  it  is  not  so,  0 
King,  my  lord."  Said  his  Majesty,  "It  is  verily  he."  Then 
they  brought  their  collars,  and  their  wands,  and  their  sistra 
in  their  hands,  and  displayed  them  before  his  Majesty;  and 
they  sang — 

' '  May  thy  hands  prosper,  0  King ; 

May  the  ornaments  of  the  Lady  of  Heaven  continue. 

May  the  goddess  Nub  give  life  to  thy  nostril; 

May  the  mistress  of  the  stars  favor  thee,  when  thou  sailest 

south  and  north. 

All  wisdom  is  in  the  mouth  of  thy  Majesty; 
Thy   uraeus    is   on   thy    forehead,    thou    drivest   away    the 

miserable. 

Thou  art  pacified,  0  Re,  lord  of  the  lands; 
They  call  on  thee  as  on  the  mistress  of  all. 
Strong  is  thy  horn, 
Thou  lettest  fly  thine  arrow. 
Grant  the  breath  to  him  who  is  without  it ; 
Grant  good  things  to  this  traveler,  Sinuhit  the  Pedti,  born  in 

the  land  of  Egypt, 
Who  fled  away  from  fear  of  thee, 
And  fled  this  land  from  thy  terrors. 
Does    not    the    face    grow    pale,    of   him    who    beholds    thy 

countenance ; 
Does  not  the  eye  fear,  which  looks  upon  thee  ? ' ' 

Said  his  Majesty,  "Let  him  not  fear,  let  him  be  freed  from 
terror.  He  shall  be  a  Royal  Friend  among  the  nobles ;  he 


20  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

shall  be  put  within  the  circle  of  the  courtiers.  Go  ye  to  the 
chamber  of  praise  to  seek  wealth  for  him." 

"When  I  went  out  from  the  palace,  the  royal  children  offered 
their  hands  to  me;  we  walked  afterward  to  the  Great  Gates. 
I  was  placed  in  a  house  of  a  King's  son,  in  which  were  delicate 
things,  a  place  of  coolness,  fruits  of  the  granary,  treasures  of 
the  White  House,  clothes  of  the  King's  wardrobe,  frankin- 
cense, the  finest  perfumes  of  the  King  and  the  nobles  whom 
he  loves,  in  every  chamber.  All  the  servitors  were  in  their 
several  offices. 

Years  were  removed  from  my  limbs:  I  was  shaved,  and 
polled  my  locks  of  hair;  the  foulness  was  cast  to  the  desert 
with  the  garments  of  the  Nemau-sha.  I  clothed  me  in  fine 
linen,  and  anointed  myself  with  the  fine  oil  of  Egypt ;  I  laid 
me  on  a  bed.  I  gave  up  the  sand  to  those  who  lie  on  it;  the 
oil  of  wood  to  him  who  would  anoint  himself  therewith. 
There  was  given  to  me  the  mansion  of  a  lord  of  serfs,  which 
had  belonged  to  a  royal  friend.  There  many  excellent  things 
were  in  its  buildings ;  all  its  wood  was  renewed.  There  were 
brought  to  me  portions  from  the  palace,  thrice  and  four  times 
each  day ;  besides  the  gifts  of  the  royal  children,  always,  with- 
out ceasing.  There  was  built  for  me  a  pyramid  of  stone 
amongst  the  pyramids.  The  overseer  of  the  architects  meas- 
ured its  ground ;  the  chief  treasurer  wrote  it ;  the  sacred 
masons  cut  the  well ;  the  chief  of  the  laborers  on  the  tombs 
brought  the  bricks ;  all  things  used  to  make  strong  a  building 
were  there  used.  There  were  given  to  me  peasants;  there 
were  made  for  me  a  garden,  and  fields  in  it  before  my  man- 
sion, as  is  done  for  the  chief  Royal  Friend.  My  statue  was 
inlaid  with  gold,  its  girdle  of  pale  gold ;  his  Majesty  caused 
it  to  be  made.  Such  is  not  done  to  a  man  of  low  degree. 

May  I  be  in  the  favor  of  the  King  until  the  day  shall  come 
of  my  death. 


KING   SENNACHERIB 

THE  TERRIBLE  ASSYRIAN   CONQUEROR  WHO  BESIEGED  JERUSALEM 
UNDER  HEZEKIAH 

REIGNED  705-681  B.  C. 

SENNACHERIB'S  PALACE  INSCRIPTION 

SENNACHERIB,  the  great  King,  the  powerful  King,  the  King 
of  the  world,  the  King  of  Assyria,  the  King  of  the  four  zones, 
the  wise  shepherd,  the  favorite  of  the  great  gods,  the  pro- 
tector of  justice,  the  lover  of  righteousness,  he  who  gives 
help,  who  goes  to  assist  the  weak,  who  frequents  the  sanc- 
tuaries, the  perfect  hero,  the  manful  warrior,  the  first  of  all 
princes,  the  great,  he  who  destroys  the  rebellious,  who  destroys 
the  enemies ;  Ashur,  the  great  rock,  a  kingdom  without  a  rival 
has  granted  me. 

Over  all  who  sit  on  sacred  seats  has  he  made  my  arms 
great,  from  the  upper  sea  of  the  setting  sun,  unto  the  lower 
sea  of  the  rising  sun  *  the  whole  of  the  black-headed  people  2 
has  he  thrown  beneath  my  feet  and  rebellious  princes  shunned 
battle  with  me.  They  forsook  their  dwellings;  like  a  falcon 
which  dwells  in  the  clefts,  they  fled  alone  to  an  inaccessible 
place. 

In  my  first  campaign  I  accomplished  the  destruction  of 
Marduk-baladan  King  of  Kar-duniash,3  together  with  the 
troops  of  Elam,  his  allies,  near  Kish.  In  the  midst  of  that 
battle  he  left  his  encampment  and  fled  alone,  and  saved  his 
life.  The  chariots,  horses,  freight-wagons,  and  mules  which 
he  left  in  the  onset  of  battle,  my  hands  seized.  Into  his  palace 
I  entered  joyously  and  opened  his  treasure-house.  Gold, 
silver,  gold  and  silver  utensils,  costly  stones  of  every  kind, 
possessions  and  goods,  without  number,  a  heavy  spoil,  his 

lLake  Van  and  the  Persian  Gulf. 
2  The  inhabitants  of  Babylonia. 
1  Babylonia. 

21 


22  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

women  of  the  palace,  valets  de  chambre,  youths  and  maidens, 
all  the  artizans,  as  many  as  there  were,  the  portable  things 
of  his  palace,  I  brought  forth  and  counted  as  spoil.  By 
the  power  of  Ashur  ray  lord,  75  of  his  powerful  cities,  the 
fortresses  of  the  land  of  Kaldi,  and  420  smaller  cities  of  their 
environs  I  besieged,  captured,  and  carried  off  their  spoil.  The 
Arabians,  Aramaeans,  and  Chaldeans  of  Uruk,  Nippur,  Kish, 
Kharsak-kalamma,  Kutu,  and  Sippara  together  with  the 
inhabitants  of  the  city  who  had  committed  transgression,  I 
brought  forth  and  counted  as  spoil. 

On  my  return  march,  the  Tu'muna,  the  Rikhikhu,  the 
Yadaqqu,  the  Ubudu,  the  Kipre,  the  Malakhu,  the  Gurumu, 
the  Ubulum,  the  Damunu,  the  Gambulum,  the  Khindaru,  the 
Ru'ua,  the  Puqudu,  the  Khamranu,  the  Khagaranu,  the  Na- 
batu,  the  Li'tau,  Aramaeans  who  were  rebellious,  I  conquered 
together.  208,000  people,  young  and  old,  male  and  female, 
7200  horses  and  mules,  11,073  asses,  5230  camels,  80,100  cattle, 
800,600  sheep,  an  immense  spoil,  I  carried  away  to  Assyria. 
In  the  course  of  my  campaign,  I  received  from  Nabubel- 
shauati,  the  prefect  of  the  city  Khararati,  gold,  silver,  tall 
palms,  asses,  camels,  cattle,  and  sheep,  a  great  present.  The 
men  of  the  city  Khirimme,  a  rebellious  enemy,  I  cast  down 
with  arms,  I  left  not  one  alive,  their  corpses  I  bound  on  stakes 
and  placed  them  round  the  city.  That  district  I  took  anew. 
1  steer,  10  rams,  10  measures  *  of  wine,  20  measures  of  dates, 
their  first  fruits,  for  the  gods  of  Assyria,  my  lords,  I  estab- 
lished forever. 

In  my  second  campaign,  Ashur,  my  lord,  gave  me  con- 
fidence. Against  the  land  of  the  Cossasans,5  and  the  land  of 
the  Yasubigallai,  who  in  former  times  to  the  kings,  rny  fore- 
fathers, had  not  submitted,  I  marched.  Over  high,  wooded 
mountains,  a  rough  country,  I  went  on  horseback.  I  brought 
up  the  chariot  of  my  feet,  with  ropes.  A  steep  place  I  climbed 
like  a  wild  bull.  Bit-Kilam/akh,  Khardishpi,  Bit-Kubatti — 
his  cities,  powerful  fortresses,  I  besieged  and  captured. 
Men,  horses,  mules,  asses,  cattle,  and  sheep  from  them  I 
brought  forth,  and  counted  as  spoil ;  but  their  small  cities, 
without  number,  I  destroyed,  wasted,  and  made  like  fields, 

4 /mm,  i.e.,  "donkey-loads,"  the  original  meaning  of  the  word  homer. 
tKasshi.     They  lived  in  the  mountains  on  the  east  of  Babylonia. 


KING  SENNACHERIB  23 

the  tents,  their  dwelling-places,  I  burned  with  fire,  I  reduced 
to  ashes.  I  made  that  city  Bit-Kilamzakh  into  a  fortress, 
stronger  than  before  I  made  its  walls ;  the  people  of  the  coun- 
tries, the  possession  of  my  hands,  I  made  to  dwell  therein. 
The  people  of  the  land  of  the  Cossseans,  and  of  the  land  of 
Yasubigallai,  who  had  fled  before  my  arms,  from  the  moun- 
tains I  made  them  descend,  in  Khardishpi  and  Bit-Kubatti  I 
made  them  settle;  in  the  hands  of  my  deputy,  the  governor 
of  Arrapkha,6  I  placed  them ;  a  tablet  I  caused  to  be  pre- 
pared; the  victory  of  my  hands  which  I  had  gained  over 
them  I  wrote  upon  it  and  I  set  it  up  in  the  city  as  a  memo- 
rial of  my  triumphs. 

I  turned  about  and  to  the  land  of  Ellipi 7  I  took  my  way. 
Before  me  Ispabara,  their  King,  left  his  strong  cities,  his 
treasure-houses,  and  fled  away.  The  whole  of  his  extensive 
land  I  wasted  like  a  storm-wind.  Marubishti  and  Akuddu, 
cities  of  his  royal  house,  together  with  34  small  cities  of 
their  environs,  I  besieged,  took,  destroyed,  wasted,  and  burned 
with  fire ;  the  inhabitants,  young,  old,  male  and  female,  horses, 
mules,  asses,  camels,  oxen,  and  sheep  without  number  I  drove 
away  and  I  made  his  land  desolate,  and  diminished  it.  Sisirtu 
and  Kummakhlum,  powerful  cities,  together  with  the  small 
cities  of  their  environs,  the  land  of  Bit-Barru,  in  its  entire 
extent,  from  his  land  I  separated  and  to  the  land  of  Assyria 
added.  The  city  of  Ilinzash  I  made  the  capital  and  fortress 
of  that  .territory  and  changed  its  former  name ;  Kar-Senna- 
cherib  I  named  it.  The  people  of  the  lands,  the  possession 
of  my  hands,  I  made  to  dwell  there.  In  the  hands  of  my 
deputy,  the  governor  of  Kharkhar,8  I  placed  them,  and  wid- 
ened my  territory.  On  my  return  I  received  from  the  land  of 
Media,9  far  away,  of  which  land  no  one  of  my  fathers  had 
heard  the  name,  a  heavy  tribute.  I  placed  them  beneath  the 
yoke  of  my  lordship. 

•  Hence  the  classical  name  of  the  district  of  Arrapakhitis,  on  the  Upper 
Zab;  now  Albak. 

7  Ellipi  was  the  country  of  which  Ekbatana  was  subsequently  the  center, 
the  Media  of  classical  antiquity. 

•Kharkhar  adjoined  Ellipi  on  the  northeast. 

•  Madai.     It  must  be  remembered  that  the  Medes  spoken  of  by  Sen 
nacherib  did  not  as  yet  inhabit  the  district  of  which  Ekbatana  subse- 
quently became  the  capital.    Hence  the  title  of  ' '  far  off, ' '  applied  to 
them  here. 


24  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

In  ray  third  campaign  I  marched  to  the  land  of  the  Hit- 
tites.10  Elulipus,  King  of  Sidon,  was  overcome  by  the  fear 
of  the  splendor  of  my  lordship  and  fled  far  away  to  the  sea 
and  there  made  his  abode.  Great  Sidon,  Little  Sidon,  Bit- 
zitti,  Sarepta,  Makhalliba,  Ushu,  Ekdippa,  Akko,  his  powerful 
cities,  fortresses,  pastures,  and  cisterns,  and  his  fortifications, 
the  power  of  the  arms  of  Aslmr,  my  lord,  overcame  and 
cast  at  my  feet.  Ethobal  upon  the  royal  throne  I  placed 
over  them  and  a  tribute  of  my  lordship,  yearly  and  unchange- 
able, I  set  upon  him.  Menahem  of  the  city  of  Samsimuruna, 
Ethobal  of  Sidon,  Abdili'ti  of  Arvad,  Urumilki  of  Byblos, 
Mitinti  of  Ashdod,  Buduilu  of  Beth-Aramon,  Kammusu-nadab 
of  Moab,  Malik-rammu  of  Edom,  all  Kings  of  the  west  land, 
brought  rich  presents,  heavy  gifts  with  merchandise,  before 
me,  and  kissed  my  feet.  And  Tsidqa,  the  King  of  Ashkelon, 
who  had  not  submitted  to  my  yoke,  I  brought  out  the  gods 
of  the  house  of  his  fathers,  himself,  his  wife,  his  sons,  his 
daughters,  his  brothers,  the  seed  of  the  house  of  his  fathers, 
and  took  them  to  Assyria.  Sharru-ludari,  the  son  of  Rukibti, 
their  former  King,  I  established  over  the  people  of  Ashkelon; 
the  giving  of  tribute,  a  present  to  my  lordship,  I  put  upon 
him,  and  he  bears  my  yoke.  In  the  course  of  my  campaign 
Beth-Dagon,  Joppa,  Benebarqa,11  Azuru,  the  cities  of  Tsidqa, 
which  had  not  quickly  thrown  themselves  at  my  feet,  I  be- 
sieged, I  took,  I  carried  away  their  spoil. 

The  governors,  chiefs,  and  people  of  Ekron  who  had  cast 
Padi,  their  King  according  to  Assyrian  right  and  oath,  into 
iron  chains,  and  had,  in  hostile  manner,  given  him  to  Heze- 
kiah  of  Judah — he  shut  him  up  in  prison — feared  in  their 
hearts.  The  kings  of  Egypt  called  forth  the  archers,  chariots, 
and  horses  of  the  King  of  Melukhkhi,  a  force  without  num- 
ber, and  came  to  their  help ;  before  the  city  of  Eltekeli  they 
arranged  their  battle  array,  appealing  to  their  weapons.  With 
the  help  of  Ashur,  my  lord,  I  fought  with  them  and  accom- 
plished their  defeat.  The  chief  of  the  chariots  and  the  sons 
of  the  King  of  Egypt  and  the  chief  of  the  chariots  of  the 

""The  land  of  the  Hittites"  had  now  become  a  generic  title,  signify- 
ing Syria  generally.  The  Hittite  kingdoms  at  Carchemish  and  elsewhere 
had  now  ceased  to  exist. 

11  The  Beni-berak  of  Josh.  xix.  45. 


KING  SENNACHERIB  25 

King  of  Melukhkhi  my  hands  took  alive  in  the  fight.  Eltekeh 
and  Timnath 12  I  besieged,  I  took,  and  carried  away  their 
spoil.  To  the  city  of  Ekron  I  went ;  the  governors  and  princes, 
who  had  committed  a  transgression,  I  killed  and  bound  their 
corpses  on  poles  around  the  city.  The  inhabitants  of  the 
city  who  had  committed  sin  and  evil  I  counted  as  spoil;  to 
the  rest  of  them  who  had  committed  no  sin  and  wrong,  who 
had  no  guilt,  I  spoke  peace.  Padi,  their  King,  I  brought 
forth  from  the  city  of  Jerusalem;  upon  the  throne  of  lord- 
ship over  them  I  placed  him.  The  tribute  of  my  lordship  I 
laid  upon  him. 

But  Hezekiah,  of  Judah,  who  had  not  submitted  to  my  yoke, 
I  besieged  46  of  his  strong  cities,  fortresses,  and  small  cities 
of  their  environs,  without  number,  and  by  casting  down  the 
walls  and  advancing  the  engines,  by  an  assault  of  the  light- 
armed  soldiers,  by  breaches,  by  striking,  and  by  axes  I  took 
them;  200,150  men,  young  and  old,  male  and  female,  horses, 
mules,  asses,  camels,  oxen,  and  sheep  without  number  I 
brought  out  from  them,  I  counted  them  as  spoil.  Hezekiah 
himself  I  shut  up  like  a  caged  bird  in  Jerusalem,  his  royal 
city;  the  walls  I  fortified  against  him,  and  whosoever  came 
out  of  the  gates  of  the  city  I  turned  back.  His  cities,  which 
I  had  plundered,  I  divided  from  his  land  and  gave  them  to 
Mitinti,  King  of  Ashdod,  to  Padi,  King  of  Ekron,  and  to 
Tsil-Bal,  King  of  Gaza,  and  thus  diminished  his  territory. 
To  the  former  tribute,  paid  yearly,  I  added  the  tribute  of 
alliance  of  my  lordship,  and  laid  that  upon  him. 

Hezekiah  himself  was  overwhelmed  by  the  fear  of  the 
brightness  of  my  lordship ;  the  Arabians  and  his  other  faith- 
ful warriors  whom,  as  a  defense  for  Jerusalem,  his  royal 
city,  he  had  brought  in,  fell  into  fear.  With  30  talents  of 
gold  and  800  talents  of  silver,  precious  stones,  gukhli  dag- 
gassi,  large  lapis  lazuli,  couches  of  ivory,  thrones  of  ivory, 
ivory,  usu  wood,  boxwood  of  every  kind,  a  heavy  treasure, 
and  his  daughters,  his  women  of  the  palace,  the  young  men 
and  young  women,  to  Nineveh,  the  city  of  my  lordship,  I 
caused  to  be  brought  after  me,  and  he  sent  his  ambassadors 
to  give  tribute  and  to  pay  homage. 

"See  Gen.  xxxviii.  12;  Josh.  xv.  10;  Juclg.  xiv.  1,  etc.  The  place  is 
now  called  Tibneh. 


26  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

In  my  fourth  campaign  Ashur  my  lord  gave  me  confidence. 
I  summoned  my  masses  of  troops ;  to  the  land  of  Bit-Yakin  " 
I  made  them  march.  In  the  course  of  my  campaign  I  accom- 
plished at  Bittutu  the  overthrow  of  Shuzub,  the  Chaldean, 
who  dwelt  in  the  marsh  land.  lie  was  overcome  by  the  fear 
of  my  battle-line,  he  lost  heart,  like  a  bird  he  fled  alone,  his 
trace  was  seen  no  more.  I  turned  about,  to  the  land  of  Bit- 
Yakin  I  took  the  road. 

Marduk-baladan,  whose  overthrow,  in  the  course  of  my  first 
campaign,  I  had  accomplished  and  his  power  dispersed,  feared 
the  war-cry  of  my  powerful  arms  and  the  advance  of  my 
strong  battle-line,  and  the  gods  who  ruled  his  land  he  moved 
in  their  shrines,  on  ships  he  embarked  them ;  to  the  city  of 
Xagittu,  in  the  swamps,  by  the  sea-coast,  he  fled  like  a  bird. 
His  brothers,  the  seed  of  his  fathers,  whom  he  left  by  the 
sea,  together  with  the  remaining  people  of  this  land,  from 
Bit-Yakin,  marsh  and  meadow-land,  I  brought  them  out, 
counted  them  slaves.  I  returned  and  destroyed  his  cities ; 
I  wasted  them,  and  made  them  like  plowed  land.  Upon 
his  confederate,  the  King  of  Elam,  I  poured  out  fury.  On 
my  return  march  I  made  Asur-nadin-sum,  my  first-born  son, 
the  scion  of  my  knees,  sit  upon  the  throne  of  his  lordship 
and  the  broad  land  of  Sumer  and  Akkad  I  made  subject  to 
him. 

In  my  fifth  campaign  the  men  of  Tumurri,  Sarum,  Isama, 
Kibsu,  Khalbada,  Qua  and  Qana,  whose  dwellings,  like  the 
nest  of  the  eagle  the  king  of  birds,  were  located  upon  the 
pinnacle  of  Nippur,14  the  steep  mountain,  had  not  yielded  to 
my  yoke.  At  the  foot  of  mount  Nippur  I  placed  my  camp, 
Avith  my  followers  drawn  up  and  my  unrelenting  warriors, 
I,  like  a  strong  wild  ox,  took  the  lead.  Clefts,  ravines,  moun- 
tain torrents,  difficult  high  floods  in  a  chair  1  crossed,  places 
impassable  for  the  chair  I  went  down  on  foot,  like  an  ibex 
I  climbed  to  the  high  peaks  against  them,  wherever  my  knees 
had  a  resting-place,  I  sat  down  on  a  rock;  waters  of  cold 
streams,  for  my  thirst,  I  drank.  Upon  the  peaks  of  wooded 
mountains  I  pursued  them,  I  accomplished  their  destruction ; 

u  The  capital  of  Marduk-baladan,  in  the  marshes  in  the  south  of  Baby- 
lonia. 

"Mount  Taurus. 


KING  SENNACHERIB  27 

their  cities  I  took.  I  took  away  their  spoil,  destroyed,  wasted, 
and  burned  them  with  fire. 

I  turned  about  and  against  Maniae,  King  of  the  city  of 
Ukki,  in  the  land  of  Daie,  yet  unconquered,  I  took  the  road. 
Into  the  unopened  path,  the  steep  roads  before  impassable 
mountains,  before  me  had  no  one  of  the  former  kings  marched. 
At  the  foot  of  Anara  and  Uppa,  powerful  mountains,  I  placed 
my  camp,  and  I,  upon  my  chair,  with  my  unrelenting  war- 
riors, entered,  with  weariness,  into  their  narrow  passes.  With 
difficulty  I  climbed  the  peaks  of  the  steep  mountains.  Maniae 
saw  the  dust  -of  my  soldiers'  feet,  forsook  Ukku,  his  royal 
city,  and  fled  far  away.  I  besieged  and  took  Ukku.  I  took 
his  spoil  of  all  sorts,  property  and  possessions;  the  treasure 
of  his  palace  I  brought  out  from  it  and  counted  as  spoil,  and 
33  cities  of  the  borders  of  his  territory  I  took.  People, 
asses,  cattle  and  sheep  I  brought  forth  from  them.  I  de- 
stroyed, wasted,  and  burned  them  with  fire. 

In  my  sixth  campaign,  the  remaining  inhabitants  of  Bit- 
Yakin  who  had  fled  before  my  powerful  arms,  like  wild 
asses,  and  had  moved  the  gods,  who  rule  their  lands,  in  their 
shrines,  and  had  crossed  over  the  great  sea  of  the  setting  sun, 
and  had  set  their  homes  in  Nagitu,  of  the  land  of  Elam, 
therefore  upon  ships  of  the  Hittites  15  I  crossed  the  sea.  Na- 
gitu, Nagitu-dibina,  with  Kilmu,  Pillatu  and  the  land  of 
Khupapanu,  districts  of  the  land  of  Elam  I  took.  The  people 
of  Bit-Yakin,  with  their  gods,  and  the  people  of  the  King  of 
Elam  I  took,  and  left  behind  no  settler.  In  ships  I  brought 
them ;  over  to  the  coast  on  this  side  I  made  them  cross  and 
take  the  road  to  Assyria.  The  cities  of  those  districts  I  de- 
stroyed, wasted,  burned  with,  fire  and  made  them  heaps  and 
plowed  land. 

On  my  return  Shuzub,  of  Babylon,  who,  through  an  attack 
on  the  land,  had  seized  the  lordship  of  Sumer  and  Akkad, 
in  open  battle  I  defeated,  I  took  him  alive  with  my  own  hand, 
in  fetters  and  bands  of  iron  I  put  him,  and  to  Assyria  I 
brought  him.  The  King  of  Elam,  who  had  helped  him  and 
marched  to  his  aid,  I  overcame;  his  power  I  scattered,  I 
broke  down  his  army. 

In  my  seventh  campaign  Ashur  my  lord  gave  me  confidence. 

"That  is,  Syrians. 


28  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

To  the  land  of  Elam  I  marched.  Bit-Khairi  and  Rasa,  cities 
of  the  Assyrian  territory  which,  in  the  reign  of  my  fathers, 
the  Elamites  had  torn  away  by  force,  in  the  course  of  my 
campaign  I  took,  and  seized  their  spoil.  My  royal  warriors  I 
took  into  them.  To  the  territory  of  Assyria  I  returned  them 
and  gave  them  into  the  hands  of  the  chief  of  Khaltsu  dur- 
samiirtsiti.  The  cities  of  Bubi,  Dunnisamas,  Bit-risia,  Bit- 
uklame,  Duru,  Danti-Sulai,  Siliptu,  Bit-asusi,  Karmubasa, 
Bit-gissi,  Bit-kappalani,  Bit-imbia,  Khamanu,  Bit-arrabi, 
Burutu,  Dintu-sa-Sulai,  Dintusa-Turbititir,  Kharriaslaki, 
Rabai,  Rasu,  Akkabarina,  Tilukhuri,  Khamranu,  Naditu,  with 
the  cities  at  the  entrance  toward  Bit-bunaki,  Til-khurnbi,  Din- 
tu-sa-Dumean,  Bit-ubia,  Baltilisir,  Tagallisir,  Sanakidati, 
Masutu-saplitu,  Sarkhuderi,  Alum-sa-tarbit,  Bit-akhiddina, 
Ilteuba,  34  powerful  cities  and  the  smaller  cities  in  their 
environs  without  number,  I  besieged,  took,  and  carried  off 
their  spoil,  I  destroyed,  wasted,  and  burned  them  with  fire. 
With  the  smoke  of  their  burning,  like  a  dark  cloud  I  cov- 
ered the  face  of  the  broad  heaven. 

When  Kudur-Nakhundu,  the  Elamite,  heard  of  the  taking 
of  his  cities,  fear  overcame  him.  He  made  his  remaining 
cities  fortresses.  He  left  Madakti,  his  royal  city,  and  to 
Khaidala,  which  is  among  the  far-away  mountains,  took  his 
way.  To  Madakti,  his  royal  city,  I  ordered  the  march.  In 
the  month  Tebet,  a  great  cold  set  in,  the  heaven  poured  down 
rain,  rain  upon  rain  and  snow;  streams  and  torrents  from 
mountains  I  feared.  I  turned  about  and  took  the  road  to 
Nineveh.  In  those  days,  by  command  of  Ashur  my  lord, 
Kudur-Nakhundi,  the  King  of  Elam,  did  not  live  three 
months.  On  a  day  not  destined  for  him  he  died  suddenly. 
After  him  Ummam-minanu,  without  judgment  and  intelli- 
gence, his  younger  brother,  set  himself  on  his  throne. 

In  my  eighth  campaign,  after  Suzub  had  been  carried  off, 
and  the  people  of  Babylon,  evil  devils  had  closed  their  city 
gates,  their  heart  planned  the  making  of  a  rebellion.  Around 
Suzub,  the  Chaldean,  the  wicked,  the  base,  who  has  no 
strength,  a  vassal  under  the  control  of  the  governor  of  Lak- 
hiru,  the  fugitive,  the  deserter,  the  bloodthirsty,  they  gath- 
ered and  marched  into  the  marsh-land  and  made  a  revolt. 
I  surrounded  them  with  an  army  and  threatened  his  life. 


KING  SENNACHERIB  29 

On  account  of  terror  and  distress  he  fled  to  Elam.  As  in- 
famy and  wrong  were  around  him  he  hastened  from  Elam  and 
entered  Babylon.  The  Babylonians  illegitimately  set  him  on 
the  throne,  and  the  lordship  of  Sumer  and  Akkad  entrusted 
to  him.  The  treasure-house  of  E-saggil  they  opened,  and  the 
gold  and  silver  of  Bel  and  Zarbanit,  which  they  brought 
from  their  temples,  they  gave  as  a  bribe  to  Umman-minanu, 
the  King  of  Elam,  who  was  without  judgment  and  insight, 
saying  to  him :  "Assemble  thy  army,  gather  thy  forces,  hasten 
to  Babylon,  help  us,  our  confidence  art  thou." 

He,  the  Elamite,  whose  cities,  in  the  course  of  my  former 
campaign  against  Elam  I  had  taken,  and  turned  into  plow- 
land,  took  no  thought,  he  received  the  bribe  from  them  and 
assembled  his  soldiers  and  forces;  his  chariots  and  baggage- 
wagons  he  brought  together,  horses  and  mules  he  placed  in 
sjpans.  The  lands  of  Parsuas,  Anzan,  Pasiru,  Ellipi,  lazan, 
Lagabra,  Karzunu,  Dumuqu,  Sulai,  Samunu,  the  son  of  Mar- 
duk-baladan,  Bit-adini,  Bit-amukkana,  Bit-sillana,  Bit-salu- 
dudakki,  Lakhiru,  the  Puqudu,  the  Gambulum,  the  Khalatu, 
the  Ruua,  the  Ubulum,  the  Malakhu,  the  Rapiqu,  the  Khin- 
daru,  the  Damunu,  a  great  confederation,  he  called  unto  him. 
Their  great  throng  took  the  road  to  Akkad  and  came  to  Baby- 
lon. Together  with  Suzub  the  Chaldean,  King  of  Babylon, 
they  made  an  alliance  and  united  their  forces,  like  a  great 
swarm  of  locusts,  on  the  surface  of  the  earth ;  together,  they 
came  to  do  battle  against  me.  The  dust  of  their  feet  was  like 
a  storm  by  which  the  wide  heavens  are  covered  with  thick 
clouds.  Before  me  in  the  city  of  Khaluli,  on  the  banks  of  the 
Tigris,  the  line  of  battle  was  drawn  up.  Before  me  they 
stationed  themselves,  they  brandished  their  arms. 

I  prayed  to  Ashur,  Sin,  Shamash,  Bel,  Nabu,  Nergal,  Ishtar 
of  Nineveh,  Ishtar  of  Arbela,  the  gods  of  my  confidence,  to 
overcome  my  powerful  enemy.  My  prayers  they  quickly 
heard,  they  came  to  my  help.  Like  a  lion  I  raged  and  put  on 
my  cuirass  and  with  my  helmet,  sign  of  war,  I  covered  my 
head.  Into  my  high  war-chariot,  which  wipes  out  the  refrac- 
tory, with  the  fury  of  my  heart  I  climbed  quickly.  The 
powerful  bow,  which  Ashur  had  entrusted  to  me,  I  seized,  the 
javelin  which  destroys  life  I  seized  with  my  hand.  Against 
all  the  troops,  evil  enemies,  oppressed,  I  roared  like  a  lion, 


30  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

like  Ramman  I  raged.  At  the  command  of  Ashur,  the  great 
lord,  my  lord,  on  flank  and  front,  like  the  advance  of  a  wild 
flood,  upon  the  enemy  I  fell.  With  the  confidence  of  Ashur, 
and  the  advance  of  my  powerful  line  of  battle,  I  struck  their 
front  and  brought  about  their  retreat.  The  hostile  forces 
with  arrow  and  lance  I  destroyed,  through  the  mass  of  their 
corpses  I  cleared  my  way. 

Khumba-nudasa,  chief  of  the  King  of  Elam,  a  careful 
champion,  who  ruled  his  troops,  in  whom  he  had  great  con- 
fidence, him,  together  with  his  chief  men,  whose  girdle-dagger 
was  embossed  with  gold,  and  whose  wrists  were  bound  with 
double  bracelets  of  shining  gold,  like  fat  steers,  laid  in  chains, 
I  quickly  destroyed,  and  accomplished  their  defeat.  Their 
necks  I  cut  off  like  lambs,  their  precious  lives  I  cut  through 
like  a  knot ;  like  a  heavy  rain,  their  trophies  and  arms  I 
scattered  over  the  wide  field.  The  chargers  of  my  chariot  swam 
in  the  masses  of  blood  as  in  a  river,  crushing  evil  and  bad ; 
blood  and  filth  ran  down  its  wheel.  With  the  corpses  of 
their  warriors,  as  with  herbs  I  filled  the  field.  I  cut  off  their 
testicles.  Their  pudenda  I  tore  from  them  like  the  seed  of 
cucumbers.  I  cut  off  their  hands.  The  bracelets  of  gold  and 
silver,  which  were  on  their  arms,  I  took  off.  With  sharp 
swords  I  cut  off  their  noses.  The  gold  and  silver  girdle-dag- 
gers, which  they  carried,  I  took  away.  The  rest  of  his  offi- 
cers, and  Nabu-sum-iskun,  the  son  of  Marduk-baladan,  who 
feared  my  line  of  battle,  but  had  gone  with  them,  in  the  midst 
of  the  battle  I  seized  them  alive,  with  my  hands.  Their 
chariots  with  their  horses,  whose  drivers,  in  the  onset  of  bat- 
tle, had  been  killed,  while  they  were  left  and  went  up  and 
down  by  themselves,  these  I  turned  together.  Until  the 
fourth  hour  of  the  night  it  went  on.  Then  I  stopped  their 
slaughter. 

Umman-minanu,  King  of  Elam,  together  with  the  King  of 
Babylon,  the  princes  of  Chaldea,  who  had  helped  them,  the 
vehemence  of  my  battle-line,  like  a  bull  overwhelmed  them. 
They  left  their  tents.  To  save  their  lives  they  trampled 
over  the  bodies  of  their  soldiers  and  fled.  Like  young  cap- 
tured birds  they  lost  courage.  With  their  urine  they  defiled 
their  chariots  and  let  fall  their  excrement.  To  pursue  them 
I  sent  my  chariots  and  horses  after  them.  Their  fugitives, 


31 

who  had  gone  out  to  save  their  lives  wherever  they  were 
overtaken,  were  thrown  down  by  arms. 

In  those  days,  after  I  had  finished  the  palace  adjoining 
the  wall  of  Nineveh  for  a  royal  dwelling,  and  to  the  astonish- 
ment of  all  people  had  adorned  it;  the  side  building,  for 
keeping  in  order  the  train,  for  the  keeping  of  horses,  and 
all  sorts  of  things  which  the  kings,  my  forefathers  and  fathers, 
had  built,  it  had  no  foundation,  its  room  was  too  small,  the 
workmanship  was  not  tasteful.  In  the  course  of  time,  its 
base  had  become  weak,  the  part  under  ground  had  given 
way,  and  the  upper  part  was  in  ruins.  That  palace  I  tore  down 
completely.  A  great  mass  of  building-material  I  took  out 
of  the  ground.  The  surrounding  part  of  the  city  I  cut  off 
and  added  to  it.  The  place  of  the  old  palace  I  left.  With 
earth  from  the  river-bed  I  filled  it  up.  The  lower  ground  I 
raised  200  tipki  above  the  level.  In  a  favorable  month  on  an 
auspicious  day  I  built  on  this  foundation  according  to  the 
wisdom  of  my  heart  a  palace  of  pilu  stone  and  cedar-wood, 
in  the  style  of  the  Ilittites,  and  a  great  palace  in  the  Assyrian 
style,  which  far  exceeded  the  former  in  adaptation,  size,  and 
artistic  excellence,  through  the  work  of  the  wise  builders  of 
my  royal  rule.  Great  cedar-beams  from  Khamanu,16  a  snow- 
capped mountain,  I  brought  hither.  The  doors  of  liari  wood 
I  surrounded  with  a  cover  of  gleaming  bronze,  and  I  put  in 
the  doors.  "With  white  pilu  stones,  which  were  found  in  the 
environs  of  Buladai,  I  made  great  bull  colossi  and  placed  them 
by  the  doors  on  the  left  and  right.  For  the  equipment  of 
the  black-headed  men.  for  the  receiving  of  horses,  mules, 
calves,  asses,  chariots,  bow-strings,  quivers,  bows  and  arrows, 
every  sort  of  tool  for  war,  the  harness  for  horses  and  mules, 
which  have  great  power  when  yoked,  I  made  rooms  and  greatly 
enlarged  them.  I  built  that  palace  from  foundation  to  roof 
and  finished  it.  My  inscription  I  brought  into  it. 

For  future  days,  whoever — among  the  kings,  my  succes- 
sors, whom  Ashur  and  Ishtar  shall  call  to  rule  over  the  land 
and  people — the  prince  may  be,  if  this  palace  becomes  old  and 
ruined,  who  builds  it  anew  may  he  preserve  my  inscription, 
anoint  it  with  oil,  offer  sacrifices,  return  it  to  its  place ;  then 
will  Ashur  and  Ishtar  hear  his  prayer.  "Whoever  alters  my 

19  Mount  Amanus. 


32  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

writing  anil  name  him  may  Ashur,  the  great  lord,  the  father 
of  gods,  afflict  like  an  enemy  and  take  scepter  and  throne 
from  him  and  destroy  his  rule.  Dated  the  month  Adar  of  the 
arehonate  of  Bel-imurani,  prefect  of  Carchemish. 


END  OP  SENNACHERIB'S  INSCRIPTION 


SOCRATES 


SOCRATES 

THE    FOUNDER    OF    PHILOSOPHIC    THOUGHT;     THE    FIRST    GREAT 
TEACHER  AND  MARTYR  OF  THE  EUROPEAN  WORLD 

469-399  B.  C. 
(INTRODUCTORY  NOTE) 

Socrates,  the  Athenian,  was  the  earliest  of  th  se  remarkable  Greek 
philosophers  whom  our  own  age  reveres  as  the  originator  of  man 's  effort 
to  understand  his  world.  We  are  thus  peculiarly  fortunate  in  having 
Socrates'  own  estimate  of  his  life,  his  doctrines  and  his  own  value  to 
the  world  around  him.  His  favorite  command  to  his  disciples,  his  favor- 
ite expression  as  to  the  aim  of  all  philosophy,  was,  "Know  thyself,"  a 
phrase  which  has  become  historic  as  the  master  word  of  his  teaching. 
The  Greek  religious  oracle  once  declared  Socrates  to  be  the  wisest  of 
men,  but  he  interpreted  the  seeming  praise  most  humbly  by  saying  that 
it  was  true,  for  he  alone  among  men  realized  that  he  really  knew  nothing. 

Like  many  a  later  philosopher,  Socrates  taught  doctrines  so  far  beyond 
his  times  that  he  was  persecuted.  At  first,  indeed,  his  instructions  were 
eagerly  sought.  The  ablest  of  the  younger  Athenians  became  his  pupils. 
But  many  of  these  were  of  the  aristocratic  class  and  became  involved 
in  an  effort  to  overthrow  the  Athenian  democracy.  Socrates  was  sus- 
pected of  aiding  or  at  least  encouraging  these  plots,  and  at  the  age  of 
seventy  he  was  tried  by  me  people 's  court  as  being  a  corrupter  of  the 
Athenian  youth.  Ho  was  adjudged  guilty  by  a  bare  majority  of  the  five 
hundred  judges  of  the  court,  and  was  condemned  to  drink  hemlock 
poison.  This  he  did  with  quiet  simplicity,  declaring  his  continued  obedi- 
ence to  the  State,  and  refusing  the  schemes  of  escapes  urged  upon  him 
by  his  friends. 

His  celebrated  "Apology"  which  we  here  present  was  his  defense 
before  the  court  which  condemned  him.  In  it  he  reviewed  his  whole 
life  to  show  what  had  been  his  real  influence  upon  the  Athenian  youth. 
The  "Apology"  comes  to  us  not  from  his  own  pen  but  from  that  of 
his  favorite  pupil,  Plato,  his  successor  as  the  leader  of  philosophy.  Plato 
wrote  among  his  own  books  what  he  tells  us  was  his  master's  speech, 
and  from  allusions  to  it  by  other  authors  we  know  that  the  speech  must 
really  have  been  almost,  if  not  exactly,  as  Plato  has  recorded  it.  The 
A.  v.  1—3  33 


34  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

' '  Apology ' '  has  generally  been  regarded  aa  the  most  valuable  piece  of 
genuine  autobiography  preserved  to  us  from  before  the  time  of  Christ. 


THE  APOLOGY  OF  SOCRATES 

How  you  have  felt,  O  men  of  Athens,  at  hearing  the  speeches 
of  my  accusers,  I  cannot  tell ;  but  I  know  that  their  persuasive 
words  almost  made  me  forget  who  I  was,  such  was  the  effect 
of  them;  and  yet  they  have  hardly  spoken  a  word  of  truth. 
But  many  as  their  falsehoods  were,  there  was  one  of  them 
which  quite  amazed  me :  I  mean  when  they  told  you  to  be 
upon  your  guard,  and  not  to  let  yourselves  be  deceived  by  the 
force  of  my  eloquence.  They  ought  to  have  been  ashamed  of 
saying  this,  because  they  were  sure  to  be  detected  as  soon  as 
I  opened  my  lips  and  displayed  my  deficiency ;  they  certainly 
did  appear  to  be  most  shameless  in  saying  this,  unless  by  the 
force  of  eloquence  they  mean  the  force  of  truth ;  for  then  I 
do  indeed  admit  that  I  am  eloquent.  But  in  how  different  a 
way  from  theirs!  Well,  as  I  was  saying,  they  have  hardly 
uttered  a  word,  or  not  more  than  a  word,  of  truth ;  but  you 
shall  hear  from  me  the  whole  truth :  not,  however,  delivered 
after  their  manner,  in  a  set  oration  duly  ornamented  with 
words  and  phrases.  No,  indeed!  but  I  shall  use  the  words 
and  arguments  which  occur  to  me  at  the  moment;  for  I  am 
certain  that  this  is  right,  and  that  at  my  time  of  life  I  ought 
not  to  be  appearing  before  you,  0  men  of  Athens,  in  the 
character  of  a  juvenile  orator:  let  no  one  expect  this  of  me. 
And  I  must  beg  of  you  to  grant  me  one  favor,  which  is  this, 
—If  you  hear  me  using  the  same  words  in  my  defense  which 
I  have  been  in  the  habit  of  using  and  which  most  of  you  may 
have  heard  in  the  agora,  [market  place],  and  at  the  tables 
of  the  money-changers,  or  anywhere  else,  I  would  ask  you  not 
to  be  surprised  at  this,  and  not  to  interrupt  me.  For  I  am 
more  than  seventy  years  of  age,  and  this  is  the  first  time  that 
I  have  ever  appeared  in  a  court  of  law,  and  I  am  quite  a 
stranger  to  the  ways  of  the  place ;  and  therefore  I  would  have 
you  regard  me  as  if  I  were  really  a  stranger,  whom  you 
would  excuse  if  he  spoke  in  his  native  tongue,  and  after  the 
fashion  of  his  country:  that  I  think  is  not  an  unfair  request. 
Never  mind  the  manner,  which  may  or  may  not  be  good : 


SOCRATES  35 

but  think  only  of  the  justice  of  ray  cause,  and  give  heed  to 
that:  let  the  judge  decide  justly  and  the  speaker  speak  truly. 

And  first,  I  have  to  reply  to  the  older  charges  and  to  ray 
first  accusers,  and  then  I  will  go  on  to  the  later  ones.  For  I 
have  had  many  accusers,  who  accused  me  of  old,  and  their 
false  charges  have  continued  during  many  years;  and  I  am 
more  afraid  of  them  than  of  Anytus  l  and  his  associates,  who 
are  dangerous,  too,  in  their  own  way.  But  far  more  danger- 
ous are  these,  who  began  when  you  were  children,  and  took 
possession  of  your  minds  with  their  falsehoods,  telling  of  one 
Socrates,  a  wise  man,  who  speculated  about  the  heaven  above, 
and  searched  into  the  earth  beneath,  and  made  the  worse 
appear  the  better  cause.  These  are  the  accusers  whom  I  dread ; 
for  they  are  the  circulators  of  this  rumor,  and  their  hearers 
are  too  apt  to  fancy  that  speculators  of  this  sort  do  not 
believe  in  the  gods.  And  they  are  many,  and  their  charges 
against  me  are  of  ancient  date,  and  they  made  them  in  days 
when  you  were  impressible — in  childhood,  or  perhaps  in 
youth — and  the  cause  when  heard  went  by  default,  for  there 
was  none  to  answer.  And  hardest  of  all,  their  names  I  do 
not  know  and  cannot  tell ;  unless  in  the  chance  case  of  a  comic 
poet.2  But  the  main  body  of  these  slanderers  who  from  envy 
and  malice  have  wrought  upon  you — and  there  are  some  of 
them  who  are  convinced  themselves,  and  impart  their  convic- 
tions to  others — all  these,  I  say,  are  most  difficult  to  deal  with  ; 
for  I  cannot  have  them  up  here,  and  examine  them,  and  there- 
fore I  must  simply  fight  with  shadows  in  my  own  defense,  and 
examine  when  there  is  no  one  who  answers.  I  will  ask  you 
then  to  assume  with  me,  as  I  was  saying,  that  my  opponents 
are  of  two  kinds — one  recent,  the  other  ancient;  and  I  hope 
that  you  will  see  the  propriety  of  my  answering  the  latter 
first,  for  these  accusations  you  heard  long  before  the  others, 
and  much  oftener. 

"Well,  then,  I  will  make  my  defense,  and  I  will  endeavor 

1  The  chief  accuser  of  Socrates.  He  hated  Socrates  for  having  influ- 
enced his  son  to  study  philosophy.  He  is  said  to  have  gone  into  exile 
after  the  death  of  Socrates  to  escape  the  vengeance  of  the  repentant 
people. 

1  Aristophanes,  twenty-five  years  before  the  trial  of  Socrates,  wrote  a 
comedy  called  The  Clouds,  in  which  he  ridiculed  the  philosopher,  repre- 
senting him  as  a  visionary  with  his  head  in  the  clouds,  oblivious  of 
mundane  affairs,  and  so  misleading  his  followers. 


36  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

in  the  short  time  which  is  allowed  to  do  away  with  this  evil 
opinion  of  me  which  you  have  held  for  such  a  long  time;  and 
I  hope  that  I  may  succeed,  if  this  be  well  for  you  and  me,  and 
that  my  words  may  find  favor  with  you.  But  I  know  that  to 
accomplish  this  is  not  easy — I  quite  see  the  nature  of  the 
task.  Let  the  event  be  as  God  wills:  in  obedience  to  the  law 
I  make  my  defense. 

I  will  begin  at  the  beginning,  and  ask  what  the  accusation 
is  which  has  given  rise  to  this  slander  of  me,  and  which  has 
encouraged  Meletus 3  to  proceed  against  me.  What  do  the 
slanderers  say  ?  They  shall  be  my  prosecutors,  and  I  will  sum 
up  their  words  in  an  affidavit:  "Socrates  is  an  evil-doer,  and 
a  curious  person,  who  searches  into  things  under  the  earth 
and  in  heaven,  and  he  makes  the  worse  appear  the  better 
cause;  and  he  teaches  the  aforesaid  doctrines  to  others." 
That  is  the  nature  of  the  accusation,  and  that  is  what  you 
have  seen  yourselves  in  the  comedy  of  Aristophanes,  who  has 
introduced  a  man  whom  he  calls  Socrates,  going  about  and 
saying  that  he  can  walk  in  the  air,  and  talking  a  deal  of 
nonsense  concerning  matters  of  which  I  do  not  pretend  to 
know  either  much  or  little — not  that  I  mean  to  say  anything 
disparaging  of  any  one  who  is  a  student  of  natural  philosophy. 
I  should  be  very  sorry  if  Moletus  could  lay  that  to  my  charge. 
But  the  simple  truth  is,  0  Athenians,  that  I  have  nothing 
to  do  with  studies.  Very  many  of  those  here  present  are 
witnesses  to  the  truth  of  this,  and  to  them  I  appeal.  Speak 
then,  you  who  have  heard  me,  and  tell  your  neighbors  whether 
any  of  you  have  ever  known  me  hold  forth  in  few  words 
or  in  many  upon  matters  of  this  sort.  .  .  .  You  hear  their 
answer.  And  from  what  they  say  of  this  you  will  be  able 
to  judge  of  the  truth  of  the  rest. 

As  little  foundation  is  there  for  the  report  that  I  am  a 
teacher,  and  take  money ;  that  is  no  more  true  than  the  other. 
Although,  if  a  man  is  able  to  teach,  I  honor  him  for  being 
paid.  There  is  Gorgias  of  Leontium,  and  Prodicus  of  Ceos, 
and  Ilippias  of  Elis.4  who  go  the  round  of  the  cities,  and  are 
able  to  persuade  the  young  men  to  leave  their  own  citizens, 

*  An  obscure  young  tragic  poet,  who  made  the  formal  accusation  against 
Socrates.     He  was  the  tool  of  Anytus  and  was  stoned  to  death  by  the 
people  in  their  revulsion  of  feeling  after  the  death  of  Socrates, 

*  Popular  Sophists  of  the  day. 


SOCRATES  :37 

by  whom  they  might  be  taught  for  nothing,  and  come  to  them 
whom  they  not  only  pay,  but  are  thankful  if  they  may  be 
allowed  to  pay  them.  There  is  actually  a  Parian  philosopher  3 
residing  in  Athens,  of  whom  I  have  heard ;  and  I  came  to 
hear  of  him  in  this  way :  I  met  a  man  who  has  spent  a  world 
of  money  on  the  Sophists,  Callias  the  son  of  Hipponicus,  and 
knowing  that  he  had  sons,  I  asked  him  :  "Callias,"  I  said,  "if 
your  two  sous  were  foals  or  calves,  there  would  be  no  diffi- 
culty in  finding  some  one  to  put  over  them ;  we  should  hire  a 
trainer  of  horses,  or  a  farmer  probably,  who  would  improve 
and  perfect  them  in  their  own  proper  virtue  and  excellence; 
but  as  they  are  human  beings,  whom  are  you  thinking  of 
placing  over  them  ?  Is  there  any  one  who  understands  human 
and  political  virtue?  You  must  have  thought  about  this  as 
you  have  sons:  is  there  any  one?"  "There  is,"  he  said. 
"Who  is  he?"  said  I,  "and  of  what  country?  and  what  does 
he  charge?"  "Evenus  the  Parian,"  he  replied;  "he  is  the 
man,  and  his  charge  is  five  minne.  "8  Happy  is  Evenus,  I 
said  to  myself,  if  he  really  has  this  wisdom,  and  teaches  at 
such  a  modest  charge.7  Had  I  the  same,  I  should  have  been 
very  proud  and  conceited ;  but  the  truth  is  that  I  have  no 
knowledge  of  the  kind,  0  Athenians. 

I  dare  say  that  some  one  will  ask  the  question,  ""Why  is 
this,  Socrates,  and  what  is  the  origin  of  these  accusations  of 
you :  for  there  must  have  been  something  strange  which  you 
have  been  doing?  All  this  great  fame  and  talk  about  you 
would  never  have  arisen  if  you  had  been  like  other  men :  tell 
us,  then,  why  this  is,  as  we  should  be  sorry  to  judge  hastily 
of  you."  Now  I  regard  this  as  a  fair  challenge,  and  I  will 
endeavor  to  explain  to  you  the  origin  of  this  name  of  "wise," 
and  of  this  evil  fame.  Please  to  attend,  then.  And  although 
some  of  you  may  think  that  I  am  joking,  I  declare  that  I  will 
tell  you  the  entire  truth.  Men  of  Athens,  this  reputation  of 
mine  has  come  of  a  certain  sort  of  wisdom  which  I  possess. 
If  you  ask  me  what  kind  of  wisdom,  I  reply,  such  wisdom  as 
is  attainable  by  man,  for  to  that  extent  I  am  inclined  to  believe 
that  I  am  wise ;  whereas  the  persons  of  whom  I  was  speaking 

8  Evenus  of  Faros,  a  poet,  and  rhetorician. 

•  About  eighty  or  ninety  dollars. 

1  Gorgias  and  Fortagoras  received  as  much  as  one  hundred  minac  ($1GOO 
to  $1800). 


38  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

have  a  superhuman  wisdom,  which  I  may  fail  to  describe, 
because  I  have  it  not  myself;  and  he  who  says  that  I  have, 
speaks  falsely,  and  is  taking  away  my  character.  And  here,  0 
men  of  Athens,  I  must  beg  you  not  to  interrupt  me,  even  if 
I  seem  to  say  something  extravagant.  For  the  word  which  I 
will  speak  is  not  mine.  I  will  refer  you  to  a  witness  who  is 
worthy  of  credit,  and  will  tell  you  about  my  wisdom — 
whether  I  have  any,  and  of  what  sort — and  that  witness  shall 
be  the  God  of  Delphi  [Apollo].  You  must  have  known 
Cha?rephon ;  he  was  early  a  friend  of  mine,  and  also  a  friend 
of  yours,  for  he  shared  in  the  exile  of  the  people,8  and  re- 
turned with  you.  Well,  Chasrephon,  as  you  know,  was  very 
impetuous  in  all  his  doings,  and  he  went  to  Delphi  and  boldly 
asked  the  oracle  to  tell  him  whether — as  I  was  saying,  I  must 
beg  you  not  to  interrupt — he  asked  the  oracle  to  tell  him 
whether  there  was  any  one  wiser  than  I  was,  and  the  Pythian 
prophetess  answered,  that  there  was  no  man  wiser.  Chsere- 
phon  is  dead  himself,  but  his  brother,  who  is  in  court,  will 
confirm  the  truth  of  this  story. 

Why  do  I  mention  this  ?  Because  I  am  going  to  explain  to 
you  why  I  have  such  an  evil  name.  When  I  heard  the  answer, 
I  said  to  myself,  What  can  the  god  mean?  and  what  is  the 
interpretation  of  this  riddle  ?  for  I  know  that  I  have  no  wis- 
dom, small  or  great.  What  can  he  mean  when  he  says  that 
I  am  the  wisest  of  men  ?  And  yet  he  is  a  god  and  cannot  lie ; 
that  would  be  against  his  nature.  After  a  long  consideration. 
I  at  last  thought  of  a  method  of  trying  the  question.  I  re- 
flected that  if  I  could  only  find  a  man  wiser  than  myself,  then 
I  might  go  to  the  god  with  a  refutation  of  wisdom  in  my  hand. 
I  should  say  to  him  "Here  is  a  man  who  is  wiser  than  I  am ; 
but  you  said  that  I  was  the  wisest."  Accordingly  I  wont 
to  one  who  had  the  reputation  of  wisdom,  and  observed  him— 
his  name  I  need  not  mention ;  he  was  a  politician  whom  T 
selected  for  examination — and  the  result  was  as  follows: 
When  I  began  to  talk  with  him,  I  could  not  help  thinking 
that  he  was  not  really  wise,  although  he  was  thought  wis« 
by  many,  and  wiser  still  by  himself;  and  I  went  and  tried 

'  The  Poloponnesian  War  (431-404  B.  C.)  was  a  conflict  between  Athens 
and  Sparta  in  which  Athens  was  defeated,  and  her  most  patriotic  citizens 
sent  into  exile. 


SOCRATES  39 

to  explain  to  him  that  he  thought  himself  wise,  but  was  not 
really  wise ;  and  the  consequence  was  that  he  hated  me,  and 
his  enmity  was  shared  by  several  who  were  present  and  heard 
me.  So  I  left  him,  saying  to  myself,  as  I  went  away:  Well, 
although  I  do  not  suppose  that  either  of  us  knows  anything 
really  beautiful  and  good,  I  am  better  off  than  he  is — for 
he  knows  nothing,  and  thinks  that  he  knows.  I  neither  know 
nor  think  that  I  know.  In  this  latter  particular,  then,  I 
seem  to  have  slightly  the  advantage  of  him.  Then  I  went  to 
another  who  had  still  higher  philosophical  pretensions,  and 
my  conclusion  was  exactly  the  same.  I  made  another  enemy 
of  him,  and  of  many  others  beside  him. 

After  this  I  went  to  one  man  after  another,  being  not  un- 
conscious of  the  enmity  which  I  provoked,  and  I  lamented 
and  feared  this:  but  necessity  was  laid  upon  me, — the  word 
of  God,  I  thought,  ought  to  be  considered  first.  And  I  said 
to  myself,  Go  I  must  to  all  who  appear  to  know,  and  find 
out  the  meaning  of  the  oracle.  And  I  swear  to  you,  Athenians, 
by  the  dog  9  I  swear ! — for  I  must  tell  you  the  truth — the  re- 
sult of  my  mission  was  just  this :  I  found  that  the  men  most 
in  repute  were  all  but  the  most  foolish ;  and  that  some  inferior 
men  were  really  wiser  and  better.  I  will  tell  you  the  tale  of 
my  wanderings  and  of  the  "Herculean"  labors,  as  I  may  call 
them,  which  I  endured  only  to  find  at  last  the  oracle  irrefut- 
able. When  I  left  the  politicians,  I  went  to  the  poets ;  tragic, 
dithyrambic,  and  all  sorts.  And  there,  I  said  to  myself,  you 
will  be  detected :  now  you  will  find  out  that  you  are  more 
ignorant  than  they  are.  Accordingly,  I  took  them  some  of  the 
most  elaborate  passages  in  their  own  writings,  and  asked  what 
was  the  meaning  of  them — thinking  that  they  would  teach  me 
something.  Will  you  believe  me?  I  am  almost  ashamed  to 
speak  of  this,  but  still  I  must  say  that  there  is  hardly  a 
person  present  who  would  not  have  talked  better  about  their 
poetry  than  they  did  themselves.  That  showed  me  in  an  in- 
stant that  not  by  wisdom  do  poets  write  poetry,  but  by  a  sort 
of  genius  and  inspiration;  they  are  like  diviners  or  sooth- 
sayers who  also  say  many  fine  things,  but  do  not  understand 
the  meaning  .of  them.  And  the  poets  appeared  to  me  to  be 
much  in  the  same  case ;  and  I  further  observed  that  upon  the 

•An  oath,  of  possibly  Egyptian  origin,  often  used  by  Socrates. 


40  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

strength  of  their  poetry  they  believed  themselves  to  be  the 
wisest  of  men  in  other  things  in  which  they  were  not  wise. 
So  I  departed,  conceiving  myself  to  be  superior  to  them  for 
the  same  reason  that  I  was  superior  to  the  politicians. 

At  last  I  went  to  the  artisans,  for  I  was  conscious  that  I 
knew  nothing  at  all,  as  I  may  say,  and  I  was  sure  that  they 
knew  many  fine  things;  and  in  this  I  was  not  mistaken,  for 
they  did  know  many  things  of  which  I  was  ignorant,  and  in 
this  they  certainly  were  wiser  than  I  was.  But  I  observed 
that  even  the  good  artisans  fell  into  the  same  error  as  the 
poets;  because  they  were  good  workmen  they  thought  that 
they  also  knew  all  sorts  of  high  matters,  and  this  defect 
in  them  overshadowed  their  wisdom — therefore  I  asked  myself 
on  behalf  of  the  oracle,  whether  I  would  like  to  be  as  I  was, 
neither  having  their  knowledge  nor  their  ignorance,  or  like 
them  in  both ;  and  I  made  answer  to  myself  and  the  oracle 
that  I  was  better  off  as  I  was. 

This  investigation  has  led  to  my  having  many  enemies  of 
the  worst  and  most  dangerous  kind,  and  has  given  occasion 
also  to  many  calumnies.  And  I  am  called  wise,  for  my  hear- 
ers always  imagine  that  I  myself  possess  the  wisdom  which  I 
find  wanting  in  others :  but  the  truth  is,  0  men  of  Athens,  that 
God  only  is  wise ;  and  in  this  oracle  he  means  to  say  that  the 
wisdom  of  men  is  little  or  nothing:  he  is  not  speaking  of  Soc- 
rates, he  is  only  using  my  name  as  an  illustration,  as  if  he 
said,  lie,  0  men,  is  the  wisest,  who,  like  Socrates,  knows  that 
his  wisdom  is  in  truth  worth  nothing.  And  so  I  go  my  way, 
obedient  to  the  god,  and  make  inquisition  into  the  wisdom  of 
any  one,  whether  citizen  or  stranger,  who  appears  to  be  wise ; 
and  if  he  is  not  wise,  then  in  vindication  of  the  oracle  I  show 
him  that  he  is  not  wise;  and  this  occupation  quite  absorbs 
me,  and  I  have  no  time  to  give  either  to  any  public  matter 
of  interest  or  to  any  concern  of  my  own,  but  I  am  in  utter 
poverty  by  reason  of  my  devotion  to  the  god. 

There  is  another  thing: — young  men  of  the  richer  classes, 
who  have  not  much  to  do,  come  about  me  of  their  own  accord ; 
they  like  to  hear  the  pretenders  examined,  and  they  often  imi- 
tate me,  and  examine  others  themselves;  there  are  plenty  of 
persons,  as  they  soon  enough  discover,  who  think  that  they 
know  something,  but  really  know  little  or  nothing:  and  then 


SOCRATES  41 

those  who  are  examined  by  them  instead  of  being  angry  with 
themselves  are  angry  with  me:  This  confounded  Socrates, 
they  say;  this  villainous  misleader  of  youth! — and  then  if 
somebody  asks  them,  Why,  what  evil  does  he  practice  or  teach  ? 
they  do  not  know,  and  cannot  tell;  but  in  order  that  they 
may  not  appear  to  be  at  a  loss,  they  repeat  the  ready-made 
charges  which  are  used  against  all  philosophers  about  teach- 
ing things  up  in  the  clouds  and  under  the  earth,  and  having  no 
gods,  and  making  the  worse  appear  the  better  cause ;  for  they 
do  not  like  to  confess  that  their  pretence  of  knowledge  has 
been  detected — which  is  the  truth :  and  as  they  are  numerous 
and  ambitious  and  energetic,  and  are  all  in  battle  array  and 
have  persuasive  tongues,  they  have  filled  your  ears  with  their 
loud  and  inveterate  calumnies.  And  this  is  the  reason  why 
my  three  accusers,  Meletus  and  Anytus  and  Lycon,10  have 
set  upon  me :  Meletus,  who  has  a  quarrel  with  me  on  behalf 
of  the  poets ;  Anytus,  on  behalf  of  the  craftsmen ;  Lycon,  on 
behalf  of  the  rhetoricians:  and  as  I  said  at  the  beginning,  I 
cannot  expect  to  get  rid  of  this  mass  of  calumny  all  in  a 
moment.  And  this,  0  men  of  Athens,  is  the  truth  and  the 
whole  truth;  I  have  concealed  nothing,  I  have  dissembled 
nothing.  And  yet,  I  know  that  this  plainness  of  speech  makes 
them  hate  me,  and  what  is  their  hatred  but  a  proof  that  I 
am  speaking  the  truth? — this  is  the  occasion  and  reason  of 
their  slander  of  me,  as  you  will  find  out  either  in  this  or  in 
any  future  inquiry. 

I  have  said  enough  in  my  defense  against  the  first  class  of 
my  accusers;  I  turn  to  the  second  class  who  are  headed  by 
Meletus,  that  good  and  patriotic  man,  as  he  calls  himself. 
And  now  I  will  try  to  defend  myself  against  them :  these  new 
accusers  must  also  have  their  affidavit  read.  What  do  they 
say?  Something  of  this  sort:  That  Socrates  is  a  doer  of 
evil,  and  corrupter  of  the  youth,  and  he  does  not  believe  in 
the  gods  of  the  State,  and  has  other  new  divinities  of  his 
own.  That  is  the  sort  of  charge ;  and  now  let  us  examine  the 
particular  counts.  lie  says  that  I  am  a  doer  of  evil,  who 
corrupt  the  youth ;  but  I  say,  0  men  of  Athens,  that  Meletus 
is  a  doer  of  evil,  and  the  evil  is  that  he  makes  a  joke  of  a 

10  A  rhetorician  and  orator,  afterward  banished  for  his  part  in  tho 
prosecution  of  Socrates. 


42  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

serious  matter,  and  is  too  ready  at  bringing  other  men  to 
trial  from  a  pretended  zeal  and  interest  about  matters  in 
which  he  really  never  had  the  smallest  interest.  And  the 
truth  of  this  I  will  endeavor  to  prove. 

[Socrates  questions  Meletus  and  forces  him  to  confess  that 
he  himself  is  careless  about  the  improvement  of  the  youth. 
Then  Socrates  shows  it  is  inconceivable  that  a  man  should 
intentionally  injure  those  among  whom  he  has  to  live.  On 
Meletus  charging  that  Socrates  is  an  atheist,  the  philosopher 
shows  the  absurdity  of  charging  a  disbeliever  in  all  gods  with 
attempting  to  introduce  new  ones.] 

I  have  said  enough  in  answer  to  the  charge  of  Meletus: 
any  elaborate  defense  is  unnecessary:  but  as  I  was  saying 
before,  I  certainly  have  many  enemies,  and  this  is  what  will 
be  my  destruction  if  I  am  destroyed ;  of  that  I  am  certain ;  not 
Meletus,  nor  yet  Anytus,  but  the  envy  and  detraction  of  the 
world,  which  has  been  the  death  of  many  good  men,  and  will 
probably  be  the  death  of  many  more;  there  is  no  danger  of 
my  being  the  last  of  them. 

Some  one  will  say:  And  are  you  not  ashamed,  Socrates, 
of  a  course  of  life  which  is  likely  to  bring  you  to  an  untimely 
end?  To  him  I  may  fairly  answer:  There  you  are  mis- 
taken :  a  man  who  is  good  for  anything  ought  not  to  calculate 
the  chance  of  living  or  dying;  he  ought  only  to  consider 
whether  in  doing  anything  he  is  doing  right  or  wrong — acting 
the  part  of  a  good  man  or  of  a  bad.  Whereas,  according 
to  your  view,  the  heroes  who  fell  at  Troy  were  not  good  for 
much,  and  the  son  of  Thetis  above  all,  who  altogether  despised 
danger  in  comparison  with  disgrace ;  and  when  his  goddess 
mother  said  to  him,  in  his  eagerness  to  slay  Hector,  that  if 
he  avenged  his  companion  Patroclus,  and  slew  Hector,  he 
would  die  himself, — "Fate,"  as  she  said,  "waits  upon  you 
next  after  Hector;"  he,  hearing  this,  utterly  despised  danger 
and  death,  and  instead  of  fearing  them,  feared  rather  to 
live  in  dishonor,  and  not  to  avenge  his  friend.  "Let  me  die 
next,"  he  replies,  "and  be  avenged  of  my  enemy,  rather  than 
abide  here  by  the  beaked  ships,  a  scorn  and  a  burden  of  the 
earth."  Had  Achilles  any  thought  of  death  and  danger? 
For  wherever  a  man's  place  is,  whether  the  place  which  he 
has  chosen  or  that  in  which  he  has  been  placed  by  a  com- 


SOCRATES  43 

mander,  there  he  ought  to  remain  in  the  hour  of  danger;  he 
should  not  think  of  death  or  of  anything,  but  of  disgrace. 
And  this,  O  men  of  Athens,  is  a  true  saying. 

Strange,  indeed,  would  be  my  conduct,  0  men  of  Athens, 
if  I  who,  when  I  was  ordered  by  the  generals  whom  you  chose 
to  command  me  at  Potidiea  and  Amphipolis  and  Delium,  re- 
mained where  they  placed  me,  like  any  other  man,  facing 
death, — if,  I  say,  now,  when,  as  I  conceive  and  imagine,  God 
orders  me  to  fulfill  the  philosopher's  mission  of  searching 
into  myself  and  other  men,  I  were  to  desert  my  post  through 
fear  of  death,  or  any  other  fear ;  that  would  indeed  be  strange, 
and  I  might  justly  be  arraigned  in  court  for  denying  the 
existence  of  the  gods,  if  I  disobeyed  the  oracle  because  I  was 
afraid  of  death :  then  I  should  be  fancying  that  I  was  wise 
when  I  was  not  wise.  For  this  fear  of  death  is  indeed  the 
pretense  of  wisdom,  and  not  real  wisdom,  being  the  appear- 
ance of  knowing  the  unknown;  since  no  one  knows  whether 
death,  which  they  in  their  fear  apprehend  to  be  the  greatest 
evil,  may  not  be  the  greatest  good.  Is  there  not  here  conceit 
of  knowledge,  which  is  a  disgraceful  sort  of  ignorance  ?  And 
this  is  the  point  in  which,  as  I  might  think,  I  am  superior  to 
men  in  general,  and  in  which  I  might  perhaps  fancy  myself 
wiser  than  other  men, — that  whereas  I  know  but  little  of  the 
world  below,11  I  do  not  suppose  that  I  know:  but  I  do  know 
that  injustice  and  disobedience  to  a  better,  whether  God  or 
man,  are  evil  and  dishonorable,  and  I  will  never  fear  or  avoid 
a  possible  good  rather  than  a  certain  evil.  And  therefore 
if  you  let  me  go  now,  and  reject  the  counsels  of  Anytus,  who 
said  that  if  I  were  not  put  to  death  I  ought  not  to  have  been 
prosecuted,  and  that  if  I  escape  now,  your  sons  will  all  be 
utterly  ruined  by  listening  to  my  words, — if  you  say  to  me, 
Socrates,  this  time  we  will  not  mind  Anytus,  and  will  let  you 
off,  but  upon  one  condition,  that  you  are  not  to  inquire  and 
speculate  in  this  way  any  more,  and  that  if  you  are  caught 
doing  this  again  you  shall  die, — if  this  was  the  condition  on 
which  you  let  me  go,  I  should  reply :  Men  of  Athens,  I  honor 
and  love  you;  but  I  shall  obey  God  rather  than  you,  and 
while  I  have  life  and  strength  I  shall  never  cease  from  the 
practice  and  teaching  of  philosophy,  exhorting  any  one  whom 

11  Tartarus,  the  place  of  punishment  for  evil  souls. 


44  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

I  meet  after  my  manner,  and  convincing  him,  saying:  O 
my  friend,  why  do  you,  who  are  a  citizen  of  the  groat  and 
mighty  and  wise  city  of  Athens,  care  so  much  about  laying 
up  the  greatest  amount  of  money  and  honor  and  reputation, 
and  so  little  about  wisdom  and  truth  and  the  greatest  im- 
provement of  the  soul,  which  you  never  regard  or  heed  at  all? 
Are  you  not  ashamed  of  this?  And  if  the  person  with  whom 
I  am  arguing,  says,  Yes,  but  I  do  care :  I  do  not  depart  or  let 
him  go  at  once ;  I  interrogate  and  examine  and  cross-examine 
him,  and  if  I  think  that  he  has  no  virtue,  but  only  says  that 
he  has,  I  reproach  him  writh  undervaluing  the  greater,  and 
overvaluing  the  less.  And  this  I  should  say  to  every  one 
whom  I  meet,  young  and  old,  citizen  and  alien,  but  especially 
to  the  citizens,  inasmuch  as  they  are  my  brethren.  For  this 
is  the  command  to  God,  as  I  would  have  you  know ;  and  I  be- 
lieve that  to  this  day  no  greater  good  has  ever  happened  in 
the  State  than  my  service  to  the  God.  For  I  do  nothing  but 
go  about  persuading  you  all,  old  and  young  alike,  not  to  take 
thought  for  your  persons  or  your  properties,  but  first  and 
chiefly  to  care  about  the  greatest  improvement  of  the  soul. 
I  tell  you  that  virtue  is  not  given  by  money,  but  that  from 
virtue  come  money  and  every  other  good  of  man,  public  as 
well  as  private.  This  is  my  teaching,  and  if  this  is  the 
doctrine  which  corrupts  the  youth,  my  influence  is  ruinous 
indeed.  But  if  any  one  says  that  this  is  not  my  teaching,  he 
is  speaking  an  untruth.  Wherefore,  0  men  of  Athens,  I  say 
to  you,  do  as  Anytus  bids  or  not  as  Anytus  bids,  and  either 
acquit  me  or  not ;  but  whatever  you  do,  know  that  I  shall 
never  alter  my  ways,  not  even  if  I  have  to  die  many  times. 
Men  of  Athens,  do  not  interrupt,  but  hear  me ;  there  was 
an  agreement  between  us  that  you  should  hear  me  out.  And 
I  think  that  what  I  am  going  to  say  will  do  you  good :  for  I 
have  something  more  to  say,  at  which  you  may  be  inclined  to 
cry  out ;  but  I  beg  that  you  will  not  do  this.  I  would  have 
you  know,  that  if  you  kill  such  a  one  as  I  am,  you  will  injure 
yourselves  more  than  you  will  injure  me.  Meletus  and  Any- 
tus will  not  injure  me:  they  cannot;  for  it  Is  not  in  the  nature 
of  things  that  a  bad  man  should  injure  a  better  than  himself. 
I  do  not  deny  that  he  may,  perhaps,  kill  him,  or  drive  him  into 
exile,  or  deprive  him  of  civil  rights ;  and  he  may  imagine,  and 


SOCRATES  45 

others  may  imagine,  that  he  is  doing  him  a  great  injury :  but 
in  that  I  do  not  agree  with  him ;  for  the  evil  of  doing  as  Any- 
tus  is  doing — of  unjustly  taking  away  another  man's  life — is 
greater  far.  And  now,  Athenians,  I  am  not  going  to  argue  for 
my  own  sake,  as  you  may  think,  but  for  yours,  that  you  may 
not  sin  against  the  God,  or  lightly  reject  his  boon  by  con- 
demning me.  For  if  you  kill  me  you  will  not  easily  find 
another  like  me,  who,  if  I  may  use  such  a  ludicrous  figure  of 
speech,  am  a  sort  of  gadfly,  given  to  the  State  by  the  God; 
and  the  State  is  like  a  great  and  noble  steed  who  is  tardy  in 
his  motions  owing  to  his  very  size,  and  requires  to  be  stirred 
into  life.  I  am  that  gladly  which  God  has  given  the  State, 
and  all  day  long  and  in  all  places  am  always  fastening  upon 
you,  arousing  and  persuading  and  reproaching  you.  And  as 
you  will  not  easily  find  another  like  me,  I  would  advise  you 
to  spare  me.  I  dare  say  that  you  may  feel  irritated  at  being 
suddenly  awakened  when  you  are  caught  napping;  and  you 
may  think  that  if  you  were  to  strike  me  dead  as  Anytus  ad- 
vises, which  you  easily  might,  then  you  would  sleep  on  for  the 
remainder  of  your  lives,  unless  God  in  his  care  of  you  gives 
you  another  gadfly.  And  that  I  am  given  to  you  by  God  is 
proved  by  this:  that  if  I  had  been  like  other  men,  I  should 
not  have  neglected  all  my  own  concerns,  or  patiently  seen  the 
neglect  of  them  during  all  these  years,  and  have  been  doing 
yours,  coming  to  you  individually,  like  a  father  or  elder 
brother,  exhorting  you  to  regard  virtue;  this,  I  say,  would 
not  be  like  human  nature.  And  had  I  gained  anything,  or  if 
my  exhortations  had  been  paid,  there  would  have  been  some 
sense  in  that:  but  now,  as  you  will  perceive,  not  even  the 
impudence  of  my  accusers  dares  to  say  that  I  have  ever 
exacted  or  sought  pay  of  any  one:  they  have  no  witness  of 
that.  And  I  have  a  witness  of  the  truth  of  what  I  say ;  my 
poverty  is  a  sufficient  witness. 

Some  one  may  wonder  why  I  go  about  in  private,  giving 
advice  and  busying  myself  with  the  concerns  of  others,  but  do 
not  venture  to  come  forward  in  public  and  advise  the  State. 
I  will  tell  you  the  reason  of  this.  You  have  often  heard  me 
speak  of  an  oracle  or  sign  which  comes  to  me,  and  is  the 
divinity  which  Meletus  ridicules  in  th£  indictment.12  This 

12  Socrates  spoke  frequently  of  this  voice,  calling  it  li's  daemon,  but 


46  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

sign  I  have  had  ever  since  I  was  a  child.  The  sign  is  a  voice 
which  comes  to  me  and  always  forbids  me  to  do  something 
which  I  am  going  to  do,  but  never  commands  me  to  do  any- 
thing, and  this  is  what  stands  in  the  way  of  my  being  a  poli- 
tician. And  rightly,  as  I  think.  For  I  am  certain,  O  men  of 
Athens,  that  if  I  had  engaged  in  politics,  I  should  have  per- 
ished long  ago,  and  done  no  good  either  to  you  or  to  myself. 
And  don't  be  offended  at  my  telling  you  the  truth:  for  the 
truth  is,  that  no  man  who  goes  to  war  with  you  or  any  other 
multitude,  honestly  struggling  against  the  commission  of  un- 
righteousness and  wrong  in  the  State,  will  save  his  life;  he 
who  will  really  fight  for  the  right,  it  he  would  live  even  for  a 
little  while,  must  have  a  private  station  and  not  a  public  one. 
I  can  give  you  as  proofs  of  this,  not  words  only,  but  deeds, 
which  you  value  more  than  words.  Let  me  tell  you  a  passage 
of  my  own  life,  which  will  prove  to  you  that  I  should  never 
have  yielded  to  injustice  from  any  fear  of  death,  and  that  if  L 
had  not  yielded  I  should  have  died  at  once.  I  will  tell  you  & 
story — tasteless,  perhaps,  and  commonplace,  but  nevertheless 
true.  The  only  office  of  state  which  I  ever  held,  0  men  of 
Athens,  was  that  of  senator ;  the  tribe  Antiochis,  which  is  my 
tribe,  had  the  presidency  at  the  trial  of  the  generals  who  had 
not  taken  up  the  bodies  of  the  slain  after  the  battle  of  Argi- 
nusaa;  and  you  proposed  to  try  them  all  together,  which  was 
illegal,  as  you  all  thought  afterwards;  but  at  the  time  I  was 
the  only  one  of  the  prytanes  who  was  opposed  to  the  illegality, 
and  I  gave  my  vote  against  you;  and  when  the  orators  threat- 
ened to  impeach  and  arrest  me,  and  have  me  taken  away,  and 
you  called  and  shouted,  I  made  up  my  mind  that  I  would  run 
the  risk,  having  law  and  justice  with  me,  rather  than  take 
part  in  your  injustice  because  I  feared  imprisonment  and 
death.  This  happened  in  the  days  of  the  democracy.  But 
when  the  oligarchy  of  the  Thirty13  was  in  power,  they  sent 
for  me  and  four  others  into  the  rotunda,  and  bade  us  bring 
Leon  the  Salaminian  from  Salamis,  as  they  wanted  to  execute 

the  wording  is  usually  too  vague  to  be  even  so  clearly  understood  as  here. 
The  most  common  modern  interpretation  is  that  he  meant  the  voice  of 
conscience,  though  some  scholars  think  that  he  believed  himself  to  have  a 
special  individual  spirit  guiding  him. 

"The  oligarchical  commission,  dictated  by  Sparta,  that  ruled  Athens 
after  its  subjugation  in  the  Peloponnesian  War. 


SOCRATES  47 

him.  This  was  a  specimen  of  the  sort  of  commands  which 
they  were  always  giving  with  the  view  of  implicating  as  many 
as  possible  in  their  crimes;  and  then  I  showed,  not  in  word 
only  but  in  deed,  that,  if  I  may  be  allowed  to  use  such  an 
expression,  I  cared  not  a  straw  for  death,  and  that  my  only 
fear  was  the  fear  of  doing  an  unrighteous  or  unholy  thing. 
For  the  strong  arm  of  that  oppressive  power  did  not  frighten 
me  into  doing  wrong ;  and  when  we  came  out  of  the  rotunda 
the  other  four  went  to  Salamis  and  fetched  Leon,  but  I  went 
quietly  home.  For  which  I  might  have  lost  my  life,  had  not 
the  power  of  the  Thirty  shortly  afterwards  come  to  an  end. 
And  to  this  many  will  witness. 

Now  do  you  really  imagine  that  I  could  have  survived  all 
these  years,  if  I  had  led  a  public  life,  supposing  that  like  a 
good  man  I  had  always  supported  the  right  and  had  made 
justice,  as  I  ought,  the  first  thing?  No  indeed,  men  of  Athens, 
neither  I  nor  any  other.  But  I  have  been  always  the  same 
in  all  my  actions,  public  as  well  as  private,  and  never  have  I 
yielded  any  base  compliance  to  those  who  are  slanderously 
termed  my  disciples,14  or  to  any  other.  For  the  truth  is  that, 
I  have  no  regular  disciples :  but  if  any  one  likes  to  come  and 
hear  me  while  I  am  pursuing  my  mission,  whether  he  be  young 
or  old,  he  may  freely  come.  Nor  do  I  converse  with  those  who 
pay  only,  and  not  with  those  who  do  not  pay;  but  any  one, 
whether  he  be  rich  or  poor,  may  ask  and  answer  me  and  listen 
to  my  words ;  and  whether  he  turns  out  to  be  a  bad  man  or  a 
good  one,  that  cannot  be  justly  laid  to  my  charge,  as  I  never 
taught  him  anything.  And  if  any  one  says  that  he  has  ever 
learned  or  heard  anything  from  me  in  private  which  all  the 
world  has  not  heard,  I  should  like  you  to  know  that  he  is 
speaking  an  untruth. 

But  I  shall  be  asked,  Why  do  people  delight  in  continually 
conversing  with  you  ?  I  have  told  you  already,  Athenians,  the 
whole  truth  about  this:  they  like  to  hear  the  cross-examina- 
tion of  the  pretenders  to  wisdom ;  there  is  amusement  in  this. 
And  this  is  a  duty  which  the  God  has  imposed  upon  me,  as  I 
am  assured  by  oracles,  visions,  and  in  every  sort  of  way  in 
which  the  will  of  divine  power  was  ever  signified  to  any  one. 

14  Chities,  one  of  the  Thirty  Tyrants,  and  Alcibiades,  who  had  in  youth 
mingled  with  Socrates  and  his  disciples. 


48  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

This  is  true,  0  Athenians ;  or,  if  not  true,  would  be  soon  re- 
futed. For  if  I  am  really  corrupting  the  youth,  and  have 
corrupted  some  of  them  already,  those  of  them  who  have 
grown  up  and  have  become  sensible  that  I  gave  them  bad 
advice  in  the  days  of  their  youth  should  come  forward  as 
accusers  and  take  their  revenge;  and  if  they  do  not  like  to 
come  themselves,  some  of  their  relatives,  fathers,  brothers,  or 
other  kinsmen,  should  say  what  evil  their  families  suffered  at 
my  hands.  Now  is  their  time.  Many  of  them  I  see  in  the 
court.  There  is  Crito,  who  is  of  the  same  age  and  of  the  same 
deme  [township]  with  myself;  and  there  is  Critobulus  his  son, 
whom  I  also  see.  Then  again  there  is  Lysanias  of  Sphettus, 
who  is  the  father  of  ./Eschines, — he  is  present;  and  also  there 
is  Antiphon  of  Cephisus,  who  is  the  father  of  Epigenes ;  and 
there  arc  the  brothers  of  several  who  have  associated  with  me. 
There  is  Nicostratus  the  son  of  Theosdotides,  and  the  brother 
of  Theodotus  (now  Theodotus  himself  is  dead,  and  therefore 
he,  at  any  rate,  will  not  seek  to  stop  him)  ;  and  there  is  Para- 
lus  the  son  of  Demodocus,  who  had  a  brother  Theages,  and 
Adeimantus  the  son  of  Ariston,  whose  brother  Plato  is  pres- 
ent ;  and  JEantodorus,  who  is  the  brother  of  Apollodorus, 
whom  I  also  see.  I  might  mention  a  great  many  others,  any 
of  whom  Meletus  should  have  produced  as  witnesses  in  the 
course  of  his  speech ;  and  let  him  still  produce  them,  if  he  has 
forgotten ;  I  will  make  way  for  him.  And  let  him  say,  if  he 
has  any  testimony  of  the  sort  which  he  can  produce.  Nay, 
Athenians,  the  very  opposite  is  the  truth.  For  all  these  are 
ready  to  witness  on  behalf  of  the  corrupter,  of  the  destroyer 
of  their  kindred,  as  Meletus  and  Anytus  call  me ;  not  the  cor- 
rupted youth  only, — there  might  have  been  a  motive  for  that, 
— but  their  uncorrupted  elder  relatives.  "Why  should  they  too 
support  me  with  their  testimony?  "Why,  indeed,  except  for 
the  sake  of  truth  and  justice,  and  because  they  know  that  I 
am  speaking  the  truth,  and  that  Meletus  is  lying. 

Well.  Athenians,  this  and  the  like  of  this  is  nearly  all  the 
defense  which  I  have  to  offer.  Yet  a  word  more.  Perhaps 
there  may  be  some  one  who  is  offended  at  me,  when  he  calls 
to  mind  how  he  himself  on  a  similar,  or  even  a  less  serious 
occasion,  had  recourse  to  prayers  and  supplications  with  many 
tears,  and  how  he  produced  his  children  in  court,  which  was  a 


SOCRATES  49 

moving  spectacle,  together  with  a  posse  of  his  relations  and 
friends:  whereas  I,  who  am  probably  in  danger  of  iny  life, 
will  do  none  of  these  things.  Perhaps  this  may  come  into  his 
mind,  and  he  may  be  set  against  me,  and  vote  in  anger  be- 
cause he  is  displeased  at  this.  Now  if  there  be  such  a  person 
among  you,  which  I  am  far  from  affirming,  I  may  fairly  reply 
to  him :  My  friend,  I  am  a  man,  and  like  other  men,  a  crea- 
ture of  flesh  and  blood,  and  not  of  wood  or  stone,  as  Homer 
says;  and  I  have  a  family,  yes,  and  sons,  0  Athenians,  three 
in  number,  one  of  whom  is  growing  up,  and  the  two  others 
are  still  young;  and  yet  I  will  not  bring  any  of  them  hither 
in  order  to  petition  you  for  an  acquittal.  And  why  not? 
Not  from  any  self-will  or  disregard  of  you.  Whether  I  am 
or  am  not  afraid  of  death  is  another  question,  of  which  I  will 
not  now  speak.  But  my  reason  simply  is,  that  I  feel  such 
conduct  to  be  discreditable  to  myself,  and  you,  and  the  whole 
State.  One  who  has  reached  my  years,  and  who  has  a  name 
for  wisdom,  whether  deserved  or  not,  ought  not  to  demean 
himself.  At  any  rate,  the  world  has  decided  that  Socrates 
is  in  some  way  superior  to  other  men. 

And  if  those  among  you  who  are  said  to  be  superior  in  wis- 
dom and  courage,  and  any  other  virtue,  demean  themselves  in 
this  way,  how  shameful  is  their  conduct !  I  have  seen  men 
of  reputation,  when  they  have  been  condemned,  behaving  in 
the  strangest  manner :  they  seemed  to  fancy  that  they  were  go- 
ing to  suffer  something  dreadful  if  they  died,  and  that  they 
could  be  immortal  if  you  only  allowed  them  to  live;  and  I 
think  that  they  were  a  dishonor  to  the  State,  and  that  any 
stranger  coming  in  would  say  of  them  that  the  most  eminent 
men  of  Athens,  to  whom  the  Athenians  themselves  give  honor 
and  command,  are  no  better  than  women.  And  I  say  that 
these  things  ought  not  to  be  done  by  those  of  us  who  are  of 
reputation ;  and  if  they  are  done,  you  ought  not  to  permit 
them ;  you  ought  rather  to  show  that  you  are  more  inclined  to 
condemn,  not  the  man  who  is  quiet,  but  the  man  who  gets 
up  a  doleful  scene,  and  makes  the  city  ridiculous. 

But,  setting  aside  the  question  of  dishonor,  there  seems  to 
be  something  wrong  in  petitioning  a  judge,  and  thus  procur- 
ing an  acquittal  instead  of  informing  and  convincing  him. 
For  his  duty  is,  not  to  make  a  present  of  justice,  but  to  give 
A.  v.  i — i 


50  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

judgment;  and  he  has  sworn  that  he  will  judge  according  to 
the  laws,  and  not  according  to  his  own  good  pleasure;  and 
neither  he  nor  we  should  get  into  the  habit  of  perjuring  our- 
selves— there  can  be  no  piety  in  that.  Do  not  then  require 
me  to  do  what  I  consider  dishonorable  and  impious  and 
wrong,  especially  now,  when  I  am  being  tried  for  impiety  on 
the  indictment  of  Meletus.  For  if,  0  men  of  Athens,  by  force 
of  persuasion  and  entreaty,  I  could  overpower  your  oaths, 
then  I  should  be  teaching  you  to  believe  that  there  are  no 
gods,  and  convict  myself,  in  my  own  defense,  of  not  believing 
in  them.  But  that  is  not  the  case ;  for  I  do  believe  that  there 
are  gods,  and  in  a  far  higher  sense  than  that  in  which  any 
of  my  accusers  believe  in  them.  And  to  you  and  to  God  I 
commit  my  cause,  to  be  determined  by  you  as  is  best  for  you 
and  me. 

[Socrates  is  convicted.  He  then  arises  and  speaks:] 
There  are  many  reasons  why  I  am  not  grieved,  O  men  of 
Athens,  at  the  vote  of  condemnation.  I  expected  this,  and  am 
only  surprised  that  the  votes  are  so  nearly  equal;  for  I  had 
thought  that  the  majority  against  me  would  have  been  far 
larger ;  but  now,  had  thirty  votes  gone  over  to  the  other  side, 
I  should  have  been  acquitted.  And  I  may  say  that  I  have 
escaped  Meletus.  And  I  may  say  more ;  for  without  the 
assistance  of  Anytus  and  Lycon,  he  would  not  have  had  a 
fifth  part  of  the  votes,  as  the  law  requires,  in  which  case  he 
would  have  incurred  a  fine  of  a  thousand  drachm®  [$160  to 
$180],  as  is  evident. 

And  so  he  proposes  death  as  the  penalty.  And  what  shall 
I  propose  on  my  part,15  0  men  of  Athens?  Clearly  that  which 
is  my  due.  And  what  is  that  which  I  ought  to  pay  or  to  re- 
ceive? What  shall  be  done  to  the  man  who  has  never  had 
the  wit  to  be  idle  during  his  whole  life ;  but  has  been  careless 

""In  Athenian  procedure,  the  penalty  inflicted  was  determined  by  a 
separate  vote  of  the  Dikasts"  (officers  somewhat  like  our  jurymen) 
"taken  after  the  verdict  of  guilty.  The  accuser  having  named  the  pen- 
alty which  he  thought  suitable,  the  accused  party  on  his  side  named 
some  lighter  penalty  upon  himself;  and  between  those  two  the  Dikasts 
were  called  on  to  make  their  option — no  third  proposition  being  admissi- 
ble. The  prudence  of  an  accused  party  always  induced  him  to  propose, 
even  against  himself,  some  measure  of  punishment  which  the  Dikasts 
might  be  satisfied  to  accept,  in  preference  to  the  heavier  sentence  invoked 
by  his  antagonist." — Grote's  History  of  Greece. 


SOCRATES  51 

of  what  the  many  care  about — wealth,  and  family  interests, 
and  military  offices,  and  speaking  in  the  assembly,  and  magis- 
tracies, and  plots,  and  parties.  Reflecting  that  I  was  really 
too  honest  a  man  to  follow  in  this  way  and  live,  I  did  not  go 
where  I  could  do  no  good  to  you  or  to  myself;  but  where  I 
could  do  the  greatest  good  privately  to  every  one  of  you, 
thither  I  went,  and  sought  to  persuade  every  man  among 
you,  that  he  must  look  to  himself,  and  seek  virtue  and  wisdom 
before  he  looks  to  his  private  interests,  and  look  to  the  State 
before  he  looks  to  the  interests  of  the  State;  and  that  this 
should  be  the  order  which  he  observes  in  all  his  actions 
and  words.  "What  shall  be  done  to  such  a  one?  Doubtless 
some  good  thing,  0  men  of  Athens,  if  he  has  his  reward ; 
and  the  good  should  be  of  a  kind  suitable  to  him.  What 
would  be  a  reward  suitable  to  a  poor  man  who  is  your  bene- 
factor, who  desires  leisure  that  he  may  instruct  you?  There 
can  be  no  more  fitting  reward  than  maintenance  in  the 
prytaneum,16  0  men  of  Athens,  a  reward  which  he  deserves 
far  more  than  the  citizen  who  has  won  the  prize  at  Olympia 
in  the  horse  or  chariot  race,  whether  the  chariots  were 
drawn  by  two  horses  or  by  many.  For  I  am  in  want,  and 
he  has  enough ;  and  he  only  gives  you  the  appearance  of 
happiness,  and  I  give  you  the  reality.  And  if  I  am  to  esti- 
mate the  penalty  justly,  I  say  that  maintenance  in  the  pry- 
taneum is  the  just  return. 

Perhaps  you  may  think  that  I  am  braving  you  in  saying 
this,  as  in  what  I  said  before  about  the  tears  and  prayer.  But 
that  is  not  the  case.  I  speak  rather  because  I  am  convinced 
that  I  never  intentionally  wronged  any  one,  although  I  can- 
not convince  you  of  that — for  we  have  had  a  short  conversa- 
tion only ;  but  if  there  were  a  law  at  Athens,  such  as  there  is 
in  other  cities,  that  a  capital  cause  should  not  be  decided  in 
one  day,  then  I  believe  I  should  have  convinced  you;  but 
now  the  time  is  too  short.  I  cannot  in  a  moment  refute  great 
slanders;  and,  as  I  am  convinced  that  I  never  wronged  an- 
other, I  will  assuredly  not  wrong  myself.  I  will  not  say  of 
myself  that  I  deserve  any  evil,  or  propose  any  penalty.  Why 

18  A  public  hotel  wherein  entertainment  was  furnished  by  the  govern- 
ment to  foreign  ambassadors  and  to  citizens  whom  the  State  wished  to 
honor. 


52  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

should  I  ?  Because  I  am  afraid  of  the  penalty  of  death  which 
Meletus  proposes?  When  I  do  not  know  whether  death  is  a 
good  or  an  evil,  why  should  I  propose  a  penalty  which  would 
certainly  be  an  evil?  Shall  I  say  imprisonment?  And  why 
should  I  live  in  prison,  and  be  the  slave  of  the  magistrates  of 
the  year — of  the  eleven  [police  commissioners]  ?  Or  shall  the 
penalty  be  a  fine,  and  imprisonment  until  the  fine  is  paid? 
There  is  the  same  objection.  I  should  have  to  lie  in  prison, 
for  money  I  have  none,  and  cannot  pay.  And  if  I  say  exile 
(and  this  may  possibly  be  the  penalty  which  you  will  affix),  I 
must  indeed  be  blinded  by  the  love  of  life,  if  I  were  to  con- 
sider that  W'hen  you,  who  are  my  own  citizens,  cannot  endure 
my  discourses  and  words,  and  have  found  them  so  grievous 
and  odious  that  you  would  fain  have  done  with  them,  others 
are  likely  to  endure  me.  No,  indeed,  men  of  Athens,  that 
is  not  very  likely.  And  what  a  life  should  I  lead,  at  my  age, 
wandering  from  city  to  city,  living  in  ever-changing  exile,  and 
always  being  driven  out !  For  I  am  quite  sure  that  into  what- 
ever place  I  go,  as  here  so  also  there,  the  young  men  will  come 
to  me ;  and  if  I  drive  them,  away,  their  elders  will  drive  me  out 
at  their  desire:  and  if  I  let  them  come,  their  fathers  and 
friends  will  drive  me  out  for  their  sakes. 

Some  one  will  say:  Yes,  Socrates,  but  cannot  you  hold 
your  tongue,  and  then  you  may  go  into  a  foreign  city,  and 
no  one  will  interfere  with  you?  Now  I  have  great  difficulty 
in  making  you  understand  my  answer  to  this.  For  if  I  tell 
you  that  this  would  be  a  disobedience  to  a  divine  command, 
and  therefore  that  I  cannot  hold  my  tongue,  you  will  not 
believe  that  I  am  serious ;  and  if  I  say  again  that  the  greatest 
good  of  man  is  daily  to  converse  about  virtue,  and  all  that 
concerning  which  you  hear  me  examining  myself  and  others, 
and  that  the  life  which  is  unexamined  is  not  worth  living — 
that  you  are  still  less  likely  to  believe.  And  yet  what  I  say  is 
true,  although  a  thing  of  which  it  is  hard  for  me  to  persuade 
you.  Moreover,  I  am  not  accustomed  to  think  that  I  de- 
serve any  punishment.  Had  I  money  I  might  have  proposed 
to  give  you  what  I  had,  and  have  been  none  the  worse.  But 
you  see  that  I  have  none,  and  can  only  ask  you  to  proportion 
the  fine  to  my  means.  However,  I  think  that  I  could  afford  a 
mina,  and  therefore  I  propose  that  penalty:  Plato,  Crito, 


SOCRATES  53 

Critobulus,  and  Apollodorus,  my  friends  here,  bid  me  say 
thirty  minae,  and  they  will  be  the  sureties.  Well,  then,  say 
thirty  minae,  let  that  be  the  penalty;  for  that  they  will  be 
ample  security  to  you. 

Not  much  time  will  be  gained,  0  Athenians,  in  return  for 
the  evil  name  which  you  will  get  from  the  detractors  of  the 
city,  who  will  say  that  you  killed  Socrates,  a  wise  man;  for 
they  will  call  me  wise  even  although  I  am  not  wise  when  they 
want  to  reproach  you.  If  you  had  waited  a  little  while,  your 
desire  would  have  been  fulfilled  in  the  course  of  nature.  For 
I  am  far  advanced  in  years,  as  you  may  perceive,  and  not  far 
from  death.  I  am  speaking  now  only  to  those  of  you  who 
have  condemned  me  to  death.  And  I  have  another  thing  to 
say  to  them:  You  think  that  I  was  convicted  through  defi- 
ciency of  words — I  mean,  that  if  I  had  thought  fit  to  leave 
nothing  undone,  nothing  unsaid,  I  might  have  gained  an 
acquittal.  Not  so ;  the  deficiency  which  led  to  my  conviction 
was  not  of  words — certainly  not.  But  I  had  not  the  boldness 
or  impudence  or  inclination  to  address  you  as  you  would  have 
liked  me  to  address  you,  weeping  and  wailing  and  lamenting, 
and  saying  and  doing  many  things  which  you  have  been  ac- 
customed to  hear  from  others  and  which,  as  I  say,  are  un- 
worthy of  me.  But  I  thought  that  I  ought  not  to  do  anything 
common  or  mean  in  the  hour  of  danger :  nor  do  I  now  repent 
of  the  manner  of  my  defense,  and  I  would  rather  die  having 
spoken  after  my  manner,  than  speak  in  your  manner  and  live. 
For  neither  in  war  nor  yet  at  law  ought  any  man  to  use  every 
way  of  escaping  death.  For  often  in  battle  there  is  no  doubt 
that  if  a  man  will  throw  away  his  arms,  and  fall  on  his  knees 
before  his  pursuers,,  he  may  escape  death ;  and  in  other  dan- 
gers there  are  other  ways  of  escaping  death,  if  a  man  is  will- 
ing to  say  and  do  anything.  The  difficulty,  my  friends,  is 
not  in  avoiding  death,  but  in  avoiding  unrighteousness;  for 
that  runs  faster  than  death.  I  am  old  and  move  slowly,  and 
the  slower  runner  has  overtaken  me,  and  my  accusers  are  keen 
and  quick,  and  the  faster  runner,  who  is  unrighteousness,  has 
overtaken  them.  And  now  I  depart  hence  condemned  by  you 
to  suffer  the  penalty  of  death,  and  they  too  go  their  ways 
condemned  by  the  truth  to  suffer  the  penalty  of  villainy  and 
wrong;  and  I  must  abide  by  my  award — let  them  abide  by 


54 

theirs.  I  suppose  that  these  things  may  be  regarded  as  fated, 
— and  I  think  that  they  are  well. 

And  now,  0  men  who  have  condemned  me,  I  would  fain 
prophesy  to  you ;  for  I  am  about  to  die,  and  that  is  the  hour 
in  which  men  are  gifted  with  prophetic  power.  And  I  proph- 
esy to  you  who  are  my  murderers,  that  immediately  after 
my  death  punishment  far  heavier  than  you  have  inflicted  on 
me  will  surely  await  you.  Me  you  have  killed  because  you 
wanted  to  escape  the  accuser,  and  not  to  give  an  account  of 
your  lives.  But  that  will  not  be  as  you  suppose :  far  other- 
wise. For  I  say  that  there  will  be  more  accusers  of  you  than 
there  are  now ;  accusers  whom  hitherto  I  have  restrained :  and 
as  they  are  younger  they  will  be  more  severe  with  you,  and 
you  will  be  more  offended  at  them.  For  if  you  think  that  by 
killing  men  you  can  avoid  the  accuser  censuring  your  lives, 
you  are  mistaken ;  that  is  not  a  way  of  escape  which  is  either 
possible  or  honorable;  the  easiest  and  the  noblest  way  is  not 
to  be  crushing  others,  but  to  be  improving  yourselves.  This 
is  the  prophecy  which  I  utter  before  my  departure  to  the 
judges  who  have  condemned  me. 

Friends,  who  would  have  acquitted  me,  I  would  like  also 
to  talk  with  you  about  this  thing  which  has  happened,  while 
the  magistrates  are  busy,  and  before  I  go  to  the  place  at 
which  I  must  die.  Stay  then  a  while,  for  we  may  as  well  talk 
with  one  another  while  there  is  time.  You  are  my  friends, 
and  I  should  like  to  show  you  fhe  meaning  of  this  event  which 
has  happened  to  me.  0  my  judges — for  you  I  may  truly  call 
judges — I  should  like  to  tell  you  of  a  wonderful  circumstance. 
Hitherto  the  familiar  oracle  within  me  has  constantly  been 
in  the  habit  of  opposing  me  even  about  trifles,  if  I  was  going 
to  make  a  slip  or  error  about  anything;  and  now  as  you  see 
there  has  come  upon  me  that  which  may  be  thought,  and  is 
generally  believed  to  be,  the  last  and  worst  evil.  But  the 
oracle  made  no  sign  of  opposition,  either  as  I  was  leaving 
my  house  and  going  out  in  the  morning,  or  when  I  was  going 
up  into  this  court,  or  while  I  was  speaking,  at  anything  which 
I  was  going  to  say;  and  yet  I  have  often  been  stopped  in  the 
middle  of  a  speech,  but  now  in  nothing  I  either  said  or  did 
touching  this  matter  has  the  oracle  opposed  me.  What  do  I 
take  to  be  the  explanation  of  this  ?  I  will  tell  you.  I  regard 


SOCRATES  55 

this  as  a  proof  that  what  has  happened  to  me  is  a  good,  and 
that  those  of  us  who  think  that  death  is  an  evil  are  in  error. 
This  is  a  great  proof  to  me  of  what  I  am  saying,  for  the 
customary  sign  would  surely  have  opposed  me  had  I  been 
going  to  evil  and  not  to  good. 

Let  us  reflect  in  another  way,  and  we  shall  see  that  there 
is  great  reason  to  hope  that  death  is  a  good,  for  one  of  two 
things:  either  death  is  a  state  of  nothingness  and  utter  un- 
consciousness, or,  as  men  say,  there  is  a  change  and  migra- 
tion of  the  soul  from  this  world  to  another.  Now  if  you  sup- 
pose that  there  is  no  consciousness,  but  a  sleep  like  the  sleep 
of  him  who  is  undisturbed  even  by  the  sight  of  dreams,  death 
will  be  an  unspeakable  gain.  For  if  a  person  were  to  select 
the  night  in  which  his  sleep  was  undisturbed  even  by  dreams, 
and  were  to  compare  with  this  the  other  days  and  nights  of 
his  life,  and  then  were  to  tell  us  how  many  days  and  nights 
he  had  passed  in  the  course  of  his  life  better  and  more  pleas- 
antly than  this  one,  I  think  that  any  man,  I  will  not  say  a 
private  man,  but  even  the  great  king  [of  Persia]  will  not  find 
many  such  days  or  nights,  when  compared  with  the  others. 
Now  if  death  is  like  this,  I  say  that  to  die  is  gain ;  for  eternity 
is  then  only  a  single  night.  But  if  death  is  the  journey  to 
another  place,  and  there,  as  men  say,  all  the  dead  are,  what 
good,  0  my  friends  and  judges,  can  be  greater  than  this?  If 
indeed  when  the  pilgrim  arrives  in  the  world  below,  he  is  de- 
livered from  the  professors  of  justice  in  this  world,  and  finds 
the  true  judges  who  are  said  to  give  judgment  there,  Minos 
and  Rhadamanthus  and  JEacus  and  Triptolemus,  and  other 
sons  of  God  who  were  righteous  in  their  own  life,  that  pil- 
grimage will  be  worth  making.  What  would  not  a  man  give 
if  he  might  converse  with  Orpheus  and  Musoeus  and  Hesiod 
and  Homer  ?  Nay,  if  this  be  true,  let  me  die  again  and  again. 
I,  too,  shall  have  a  wonderful  interest  in  a  plape  where  I 
can  converse  with  Palamedes,  and  Ajax  the  son  of  Telamon, 
and  other  heroes  of  old,  who  have  suffered  death  through  an 
unjust  judgment;  and  there  will  be  no  small  pleasures,  as  I 
think,  in  comparing  my  own  sufferings  with  theirs.  Above 
all,  I  shall  be-  able  to  continue  my  search  into  true  and  false 
knowledge ;  as  in  this  world,  so  also  in  that ;  I  shall  find  out 
who  is  wise,  and  who  pretends  to  be  wise,  and  is  not.  AY'1  at 


56  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

would  not  a  man  give,  0  judges,  to  be  able  to  examine  the 
leader  of  the  great  Trojan  expedition;  or  Odysseus  or  Sisy- 
phus, or  numberless  others,  men  and  women  too!  TV  hat  in- 
finite delight  would  there  be  in  conversing  with  them  and  ask- 
ing them  questions!  For  in  that  world  they  do  not  put  a 
man  to  death  for  this ;  certainly  not.  For  besides  being  hap- 
pier in  that  world  than  in  this,  they  will  be  immortal,  if  what 
is  said  is  true. 

"Wherefore,  0  judges,  be  of  good  cheer  about  death,  and 
know  this  of  a  truth — that  no  evil  can  happen  to  a  good  man, 
either  in  life  or  after  death.  He  and  his  are  not  neglected  by 
the  gods ;  nor  has  my  own  approaching  end  happened  by  mere 
chance.  But  I  see  clearly  that  to  die  and  be  released  was  bet- 
ter for  me ;  and  therefore  the  oracle  gave  no  sign.  For  which 
reason,  also,  I  am  not  angry  with  my  accusers  or  my  con- 
demners;  they  have  done  me  no  harm,  although  neither  of 
them  meant  to  do  me  any  good ;  and  for  this  I  may  gently 
blame  them. 

Still  I  have  a  favor  to  ask  of  them.  "When  my  sons  are 
grown  up,  I  would  ask  you,  O  my  friends,  to  punish  them; 
and  I  would  have  you  trouble  them,  as  I  have  troubled  you, 
if  they  seem  to  care  about  riches,  or  anything,  more  than 
about  virtue ;  or  if  they  pretend  to  be  something  when  they 
are  really  nothing, — then  reprove  them,  as  I  have  reproved 
you,  for  not  caring  about  that  for  which  they  ought  to  care, 
and  thinking  that  they  are  something  when  they  are  really 
nothing.  And  if  you  do  this,  I  and  my  sons  will  have  received 
justice  at  your  hands. 

The  hour  of  departure  has  arrived,  and  we  go  our  ways — I 
to  die,  and  you  to  live.  Which  is  better  God  only  knows. 


END   OK    THE   APOLOGY 


XEXOPHON 


XENOPHON 

A  HERO  OP  THE  NOBLEST  TYPE  IN  ANCIENT  GREECE 

435-354  B.  C. 
(INTRODUCTORY  NOTE) 

Xenophon  was  one  of  the  pupils  of  Socrates,  and  if  we  may  judge  the 
master  by  this  particular  disciple  then  was  Socrates  indeed  a  noble  leader, 
for  Xenophon  stands  as  perhaps  our  finest  example  of  all  that  was  highest 
and  most  heroic  in  the  Athenian  aristocrat.  Xenophon  was  a  polished 
scholar,  a  thinker,  clear,  quick  and  practical,  though  not  subtle  in 
philosophic  speculation.  He  was  also  a  valiant  fighter,  a  bold  adven- 
turer, and  a  high-souled  gentleman. 

He  wrote  several  books,  among  which  by  far  the  most  popular  has 
always  been  the  ' '  Anabasis, ' '  a  word  which  means  ' '  a  going  up  through 
the  land. "  It  is  an  account  of  an  expedition  in  which  he  himself  took 
part.  Ten  thousand  Greeks  enlisted  to  aid  a  Persian  prince  in  an  attempt 
to  conquer  the  Persian  throne.  Their  Persian  employer  was  slain  and 
the  triumphant  Persian  king,  sorely  puzzled  as  to  what  to  do  with  the 
ten  thousand  Greek  invaders,  pretended  friendship  for  them  and  then 
ensnared  and  slew  all  their  Greek  generals. 

Throughout  this  first  part  of  the  expedition,  this  going  up  into  the 
Persian  land,  Xenophon  was  a  private  volunteer,  and  he  tells  the  story 
in  a  wholly  impersonal  manner  with  no  mention  of  himself.  In  the  sore 
extremity  of  the  Greek  soldiers,  left  without  leaders  fifteen  hundred 
miles  deep  in  an  unknown  land  and  encompassed  by  treacherous  and 
terrible  enemies,  in  this  moment  of  their  despair  Xenophon  assumed  a 
leadership  among  them  and  was,  if  we  may  accept  his  picture,  their 
mainstay  throughout  this  celebrated  ' '  Retreat  of  the  Ten  Thousand. ' ' 
It  was  a  march  of  exploration  continuing  over  many  months,  a  series  of 
unending  battles  against  nations  ever  new  and  strange,  a  stupendous 
struggle  against  every  adverse  force  of  nature. 

In  this  second  part  of  his  book,  called  the  ' '  Katabasis ' '  or  backward 
march,  Xenophon  is  the  chief  figure.  He  speaks  of  himself  in  the  third 
person  and  often  disappears  from  sight  while  narrating  the  deeds  of 
others.  Yet  a  considerable  portion  of  the  "Katabasis"  is  obviously  au- 
tobiographical, the  true  autobiography  of  a  true  hero,  in  an  achievement 
of  epic  splendor. 

57 


58  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

THE  "KATABASIS,"  OR  AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL  SEC- 
TION OF  XENOPHON'S  "ANABASIS" 


WHAT  the  Greeks  did  in  their  march  up  the  country  with 
Cyrus,  until  the  time  of  the  battle,  and  what  occurred  after 
Cyrus  was  dead,  when  the  Greeks  set  out  to  return  with 
Tissaph ernes  in  reliance  on  a  truce,  has  been  related  in  the 
preceding  part  of  the  work. 

After  the  generals  were  made  prisoners,  and  such  of  the 
captains  and  soldiers  as  had  accompanied  them  were  put  to 
death,  the  Greeks  were  in  great  perplexity,  reflecting  that 
they  were  not  far  from  the  king's  residence;  that  there  were 
around  them,  on  all  sides,  many  hostile  nations  and  cities; 
that  no  one  would  any  longer  secure  them  opportunities  of 
purchasing  provisions;  that  they  were  distant  from  Greece 
not  less  than  ten  thousand  stadia;  that  there  was  no  one  to 
guide  them  on  the  way;  that  impassable  rivers  would  inter- 
cept them  in  the  midst  of  their  course;  that  the  Barbarians 
who  had  gone  up  with  Cyrus  had  deserted  them ;  and  that 
they  were  left  utterly  alone,  having  no  cavalry  to  support 
them,  so  that  it  was  certain,  even  if  they  defeated  their  ene- 
mies, that  they  would  not  kill  a  man  of  them,  and  that,  if 
they  were  defeated,  none  of  themselves  would  be  left  alive; 
reflecting,  I  say,  on  these  circumstances,  and  being  disheart- 
ened at  them,  few  of  them  tasted  food  for  that  evening,  few 
kindled  fires,  and  many  did  not  come  to  the  place  of  arms 
during  the  night,  but  lay  down  to  rest  where  they  severally 
happened  to  be,  unable  to  sleep  for  sorrow  and  longing  for 
their  country,  their  parents,  their  wives  and  children,  whom 
they  never  expected  to  see  again. 

There  was  in  the  army  a  certain  Xenophon,  an  Athenian, 
who  accompanied  it  neither  in  the  character  of  general,  nor 
captain,  nor  common  soldier,  but  it  had  happened  that  Prox- 
enus,  an  old  guest-friend  of  his,  had  sent  for  him  from  home, 
giving  him  a  promise  that,  if  he  came,  he  would  recommend 
him  to  the  friendship  of  Cyrus,  whom  he  considered,  he  said, 
as  a  greater  object  of  regard  than  his  own  country.  Xeno- 
phon, on  reading  the  letter,  consulted  Socrates  the  Athenian, 


XENOPHON  59 

as  to  the  propriety  of  making  the  journey;  and  Socrates, 
fearing  that  if  he  attached  himself  to  Cyrus  it  might  prove  a 
ground  for  accusation  against  him  with  his  country,  because 
Cyrus  was  thought  to  have  zealously  assisted  the  Lacedaemo- 
nians in  their  war  with  Athens,  advised  Xenophon  to  go  to 
Delphi,  and  consult  the  god  respecting  the  expedition. 
Xenophon,  having  gone  thither  accordingly,  inquired  of 
Apollo  to  which  of  the  gods  he  should  sacrifice  and  pray,  in 
order  most  honorably  and  successfully  to  perform  the  journey 
which  he  contemplated,  and,  after  prosperously  accomplishing 
it,  to  return  in  safety.  Apollo  answered  him  that  "he  should 
sacrifice  to  the  gods  to  whom  it  wras  proper  for  him  to  sacri- 
fice." When  he  returned,  he  repeated  the  oracle  to  Socrates, 
who,  on  hearing  it,  blamed  him  for  not  asking  Apollo  in  the 
first  place,  whether  it  were  better  for  him  to  go  or  stay  at 
home ;  whereas,  having  settled  with  himself  that  he  would  go, 
he  only  asked  how  he  might  best  go;  "but  since  you  have," 
said  he,  "put  the  question  thus,  you  must  do  what  the  god 
has  directed."  Xenophon,  therefore,  having  sacrificed  to  the 
gods  that  Apollo  commanded,  set  sail,  and  found  Proxenus 
and  Cyrus  at  Sardis,  just  setting  out  on  their  march  up  the 
country,  and  was  presented  to  Cyrus.  Proxenus  desiring  that 
he  should  remain  with  them,  Cyrus  joined  in  the  same  desire, 
and  said  that  as  soon  as  the  expedition  was  ended,  he  would 
send  him  home  again.  The  expedition  was  said  to  be  intended 
against  the  Pisidians.  '  Xenophon  accordingly  joined  in  the 
enterprise,  being  thus  deceived,  but  not  by  Proxenus ;  for  he 
did  not  know  that  the  movement  was  against  the  king,  nor 
did  any  other  of  the  Greeks,  except  Clearchus.  When  they 
arrived  in  Cilicia,  however,  it  appeared  manifest  to  every  one 
that  it  was  against  the  king  that  their  force  was  directed; 
but,  though  they  were  afraid  of  the  length  of  the  journey, 
and  unwilling  to  proceed,  yet  the  greater  part  of  them,  out 
of  respect  both  for  one  another  and  for  Cyrus,  continued  to 
follow  him ;  of  which  number  was  Xenophon. 

When  this  perplexity  occurred,  Xenophon  was  distresed 
as  well  as  the  other  Greeks,  and  unable  to  rest,  but  having 
at  length  got  a  little  sleep,  he  had  a  dream,  in  which,  in  the 
midst  of  a  thunder-storm,  a  bolt  seemed  to  him  to  fall  upon 
his  father's  house,  and  the  house  in  consequence  became 


60  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

all  in  a  blaze.  Being  greatly  frightened,  he  immediately 
awoke,  and  considered  his  dream  as  in  one  respect  favorable 
(inasmuch  as,  being  in  troubles  and  dangers,  he  seemed  to  be- 
hold a  great  light  from  Jupiter),  but  in  another  respect  he 
was  alarmed  (because  the  dream  appeared  to  him  to  be  from 
Jupiter  who  was  a  king,  and  the  fire  to  blaze  all  around  him), 
lest  he  should  be  unable  to  escape  from  the  king's  territories, 
but  should  be  hemmed  in  on  all  sides  by  inextricable  diffi- 
culties. 

What  it  betokens,  however,  to  see  such  a  dream,  we  may 
conjecture  from  the  occurrences  that  happened  after  the 
dream.  What  immediately  followed  was  this.  As  soon  as  he 
awoke,  the  thought  that  first  occurred  to  him  was,  ' '  Why  do  I 
lie  here  ?  The  night  is  passing  away.  With  daylight  it  is 
probable  that  the  enemy  will  come  upon  us;  and  if  we  once 
fall  into  the  hands  of  the  king,  what  is  there  to  prevent  us 
from  being  put  to  death  with  ignominy,  after  witnessing  the 
most  grievous  sufferings  among  our  comrades,  and  enduring 
every  severity  of  torture  ourselves?  Yet  no  one  concerts 
measures,  or  takes  thought,  for  our  defense,  but  we  lie  still, 
as  if  we  were  at  liberty  to  enjoy  repose.  From  what  city,  then, 
do  I  expect  a  leader  to  undertake  our  defense?  What  age 
am  I  waiting  for  to  come  to  myself?  Assuredly  I  shall  never 
be  older,  if  I  give  myself  up  to  the  enemy  to-day."  After 
these  reflections  he  arose,  and  called  together,  in  the  first 
place,  the  captains  that  were  under  Proxenus. 

When  they  were  assembled,  he  said,  "For  my  part,  cap- 
tains, I  cannot  sleep,  nor,  I  should  think,  can  you,  nor  can  I 
lie  still  any  longer,  when  I  consider  in  what  circumstances 
we  are  placed ;  for  it  is  plain  that  the  enemy  did  not  openly 
manifest  hostility  toward  us,  until  they  thought  that  they 
had  judiciously  arranged  their  plans;  but  on  our  side  no  one 
takes  any  thought  how  we  may  best  maintain  a  contest  with 
them.  Yet  if  we  prove  remiss,  and  fall  into  the  power  of 
the  king,  what  may  we  not  expect  to  suffer  from  a  man  who 
cut  off  the  head  and  hand  of  his  own  brother  by  the  same 
mother  and  father,  even  after  he  was  dead,  and  fixed  them 
upon  a  stake?  What  may  not  we,  I  say,  expect  to  suffer, 
who  have  no  relative  to  take  our  part,  and  who  have  marched 
against  him  to  make  him  a  subject  instead  of  a  monarch,  and 


XENOPHON  61 

to  put  him  to  death  if  it  should  lie  in  our  power?  Will  he 
not  proceed  to  every  extremity,  that  by  reducing  us  to  the  last 
degree  of  ignominious  suffering,  he  may  inspire  all  men  with 
a  dread  of  ever  taking  the  field  against  him  ?  We  must,  how- 
ever, try  every  expedient  not  to  fall  into  his  hands.  For  my- 
self, I  never  ceased,  while  the  truce  lasted,  to  consider  our- 
selves as  objects  of  pity,  and  to  regard  the  king  and  his  people 
as  objects  of  envy,  as  I  contemplated  how  extensive  and  valu- 
able a  country  they  possessed,  how  great  an  abundance  of 
provisions,  how  many  slaves  and  cattle,  and  how  vast  a  quan- 
tity of  gold  and  raiment;  while,  on  the  other  hand,  when  I 
reflected  on  the  condition  of  our  own  soldiers,  that  we  had 
no  share  in  any  of  all  these  blessings,  unless  we  bought  it, 
and  knew  that  few  of  us  had  any  longer  money  to  buy,  and 
that  our  oaths  restrained  us  from  getting  provisions  otherwise 
than  by  buying,  I  sometimes,  on  taking  all  these  circumstances 
into  consideration,  feared  the  continuance  of  peace  more  than 
I  now  fear  war.  But  since  they  have  put  an  end  to  peace, 
their  own  haughtiness,  and  our  mistrust,  seem  likewise  to  be 
brought  to  an  end;  for  the  advantages  which  I  have  men- 
tioned lie  now  as  prizes  between  us,  for  whichsoever  of  us 
shall  prove  the  better  men;  and  the  gods  are  the  judges  of 
the  contest,  who,  as  is  just,  will  be  on  our  side ;  since  the 
enemy  have  offended  them  by  perjury,  while  we,  though  see- 
ing many  good  things  to  tempt  us,  have  resolutely  abstained 
from  all  of  them  through  regard  to  our  oaths;  so  that,  as  it 
seems  to  me,  we  may  advance  to  the  combat  with  much  greater 
confidence  than  they  can  feel.  We  have  bodies,  moreover, 
better  able  than  theirs  to  endure  cold,  and  heat,  and  toil ;  and 
we  have,  with  the  help  of  the  gods,  more  resolute  minds ; 
while  the  enemy,  if  the  gods,  as  before,  grant  us  success,  will 
be  found  more  obnoxious  to  wounds  and  death  *  than  we  are. 
But  possibly  others  of  you  entertain  the  same  thoughts;  let 
us  not,  then,  in  the  name  of  heaven,  wait  for  others  to  come 
and  exhort  us  to  noble  deeds,  but  let  us  be  ourselves  the  first 
to  excite  others  to  exert  their  valor.  Prove  yourselves  the 
bravest  of  the  captains,  and  more  worthy  to  lead  than  those 
who  are  now  leaders.  As  for  me,  if  you  wish  to  take  the  start 
in  the  course,  I  am  willing  to  follow  you,  or,  if  you  appoint  me 
1  This  refers  to  the  great  superiority  of  the  Grecian  armor. 


62  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

to  be  a  leader,  I  shall  not  make  my  youth  an  excuse,  but 
shall  think  myself  sufficiently  mature  to  defend  myself  against 
harm." 

Thus  spoke  Xenophon ;  and  the  captains,  on  hearing  his 
observations,  all  desired  him  to  be  their  leader,  except  a 
certain  Apollonides,  who  resembled  a  Boeotian  in  his  manner 
of  speaking;  this  man  said  that  ''whoever  asserted  they  could 
gain  safety  by  any  other  means  than  by  obtaining,  if  he  could, 
the  king's  consent  to  it,  talked  absurdly;"  and  at  the  same 
time  began  to  enumerate  the  difficulties  surrounding  them. 
But  Xenophon,  interrupting  him,  said,  "O  most  wonderful 
of  men !  you  neither  understand  what  you  see,  nor  remember 
what  you  hear.  Yet  you  were  on  the  same  spot  with  those 
here  present,  when  the  king,  after  Cyrus  was  dead,  being  in 
high  spirits  at  the  circumstance,  sent  to  demand  that  we  should 
deliver  up  our  arms;  and  when  we,  refusing  to  deliver  them 
up,  and  appearing  in  full  armor,  went  and  encamped  over 
against  him,  what  means  did  he  not  try,  sending  deputies, 
asking  for  a  truce,  and  supplying  us  with  provisions  until  he 
obtained  a  truce  ?  But  when,  on  the  other  hand,  our  generals 
and  captains  went  to  confer  with  the  Barbarians,  as  you  now 
advise  us  to  do,  without  their  arms,  and  relying  on  the  truce, 
were  they  not  beaten,  goaded,  insulted,  and  are  they  not  un- 
able, wretched  men,  to  die,  though,  I  should  think,  greatly 
longing  for  death?  And  do  you,  knowing  all  these  occur- 
rences, say  to  those  who  exhort  us  to  defend  ourselves  talk 
absurdly,  and  advise  us  to  go  again  to  try  persuasion?  To 
me,  O  captains,  it  seems  that  we  should  no  longer  admit  this 
man  into  the  same  service  with  ourselves,  but  take  from  him 
his  captaincy,  and  laying  baggage  on  his  back,  make  use  of 
him  in  that  capacity;  for  he  disgraces  both  his  own  country 
and  all  Greece,  inasmuch  as,  being  a  Greek,  he  is  of  such  a 
character."  Here  Agasias  of  Stymphalus,  proceeding  to 
speak,  said,  "But  this  man,  assuredly,  has  nothing  to  do  either 
with  Bceotia  or  with  Greece  at  all,  for  I  have  observed  that  he 
has  both  his  ears  bored,  like  a  Lydian."  Such  indeed  was  the 
case ;  and  they  accordingly  expelled  him. 

The  rest,  proceeding  to  the  different  divisions  of  the  troops, 
called  up  the  general  wherever  there  was  a  general  surviving, 
and  the  lieutenant-general  where  the  general  was  dead,  and 


XENOPHON  63 

the  captain  wherever  there  was  a  captain  surviving.  When 
they  were  all  come  together,  they  sat  down  before  the  place 
where  the  arms  were  piled ;  and  the  generals  and  captains  as- 
sembled were  about  a  hundred  in  all.  The  time  when  the 
meeting  took  place  was  about  midnight. 

Hieronymus,  a  native  of  Elis,  the  oldest  of  all  the  captains 
that  had  served  under  Proxenus,  was  the  first  to  speak,  as 
follows:  "It  has  seemed  proper  to  us,  O  generals  and  cap- 
tains, on  contemplating  the  present  state  of  our  affairs,  to 
meet  together  ourselves,  and  to  call  upon  you  to  join  us,  that 
we  may  determine,  if  we  can,  on  some  plan  for  our  benefit. 
But  do  you,  Xenophon,  first  represent  to  the  assembly  what 
you  have  already  observed  to  us."  Xenophon  accordingly 
said,  -"We  are  all  aware  that  the  king  and  Tissaphernes  have 
made  prisoners  of  as  many  of  us  as  they  could ;  and  it  is  evi- 
dent that  they  are  forming  designs  against  the  rest  of  us,  that 
they  may  put  us  to  death  if  they  can.  But  on  our  parts  I 
think  that  every  means  should  be  adopted  in  order  that  we 
may  not  fall  into  the  Barbarians '  hands,  but  rather  that  they, 
if  we  can  accomplish  it,  may  fall  into  ours.  Be  well  assured 
then,  that  you,  who  have  now  met  together  in  such  numbers, 
have  upon  you  a  most  important  responsibility;  for  all  the 
soldiers  look  to  you,  and,  if  they  see  you  dispirited,  they  will 
themselves  lose  courage,  but  if  both  you  yourselves  appear 
well  prepared  to  meet  the  enemy,  and  exhort  others  to  be 
equally  prepared,  be  certain  that  they  will  follow  you,  and 
strive  to  imitate  you.  Perhaps,  too,  it  is  right  that  you  should 
show  some  superiority  over  them ;  for  you  are  their  generals, 
their  officers,  and  their  captains,  and,  when  there  was  peace, 
you  enjoyed  advantages  over  them  in  fortune  and  honor; 
and  now,  in  consequence,  when  war  arises,  you  ought  to  prove 
yourselves  preeminent  over  the  multitude,  and  to  take  the 
lead  in  forming  plans  for  them,  and,  should  it  ever  be  neces- 
sary, in  toiling  for  them.  And,  in  the  first  place,  I  think 
that  you  will  greatly  benefit  the  army,  if  you  take  care  that 
generals  and  captains  be  chosen,  as  soon  as  possible,  in  the 
room  of  those  whom  we  have  lost ;  for  without  commanders 
nothing  honorable  or  advantageous  can  be  achieved,  I  may 
say  in  one  word,  anywhere,  but  least  of  all  in  the  field  of  bat- 
tle. Good  order  conduces  to  safety,  but  want  of  order  has 


64,  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

already  proved  fatal  to  many.  Again,  when  you  have  ap- 
pointed as  many  commanders  as  are  requisite,  I  consider  that 
if  you  were  to  assemble  and  encourage  the  rest  of  the  soldiers, 
you  would  act  very  suitably  to  the  occasion ;  for  you  perhaps 
observe,  as  well  as  myself,  how  dejectedly  they  have  now 
come  to  the  place  of  arms,  and  how  dejectedly  they  go  upon 
guard,  so  that,  while  they  are  in  such  a  condition,  I  know  not 
for  what  service  any  one  could  employ  them,  whether  required 
by  night  or  by  day.  But  if  any  one  could  change  the  direc- 
tion of  their  thoughts,  so  that  they  may  not  merely  contem- 
plate what  they  are  likely  to  suffer,  but  what  they  may  be 
able  to  do,  they  will  become  much  more  eager  for  action ;  for 
you  are  certain  that  it  is  neither  numbers  nor  strength  which 
gives  the  victory  in  war,  but  that  whichsoever  side  advances 
on  the  enemy  with  the  more  resolute  courage,  their  opponents, 
in  general,  cannot  withstand  their  onset.  I  have  also  re- 
marked, fellow-soldiers,  that  such  as  are  eager  in  the  field  to 
preserve  their  lives  at  any  rate,  for  the  most  part  perish 
wretchedly  and  ignominiously,  while  I  see  that  such  as  reflect 
that  death  is  to  all  men  common  and  inevitable,  and  seek  in 
battle  only  to  fall  with  honor,  more  frequently,  from  whatever 
cause,  arrive  at  old  age,  and  live,  while  they  live,  with  greater 
happiness.  Being  aware,  then,  of  these  facts,  it  behooves  us, 
such  are  the  circumstances  in  which  we  are  placed,  both  to 
prove  ourselves  to  be  brave  soldiers,  and  to  exhort  others  to 
be  so  likewise."  Having  spoken  thus,  he  stopped. 

After  him  Cheirisophus  said,  "Till  the  present  moment,  O 
Xenophon,  I  knew  nothing  of  you,  except  having  heard  that 
you  were  an  Athenian,  but  now  I  have  to  praise  you  both  for 
what  you  say  and  what  you  do,  and  could  wish  that  there  were 
very  many  like  you ;  for  it  would  be  a  general  good.  And 
now,"  he  added,  "let  us  not  delay,  my  fellow-soldiers,  but 
proceed  at  once,  you  who  want  them,  to  choose  commanders, 
and  when  you  have  elected  them,  come  to  the  center  of  the 
camp,  and  bring  those  that  are  chosen ;  and  we  will  then  call 
the  rest  of  the  soldiers  together  there.  And  let  Tolmides 
the  herald,"  said  he,  "come  with  us."  As  he  said  this,  he 
rose  up,  that  the  necessary  measures  might  not  be  delayed, 
but  carried  at  once  into  execution.  There  were  accordingly 
chosen  commanders,  Timasion,  a  Dardanian  in  the  room  of 


XENOPHON  65 

Clearchus,  Xanthicles  an  Achaean  in  that  of  Socrates,  Cleanor 
an  Arcadian  in  that  of  Agias,  Philesius  an  Achaean  in  that 
of  Menon,  and  Xenophon  of  Athens  in  that  of  Proxenus. 

ii 

WHEN  the  officers  were  chosen,  and  day  was  just  dawning, 
they  met  in  the  center  of  the  camp,  and  it  was  resolved  to 
station  sentinels  at  the  outposts,  and  to  call  together  the  sol- 
diers. When  the  rest  of  the  troops  came  up,  Cheirisophus  the 
Lacedaemonian  rose  first,  and  spoke  as  follows :  ' '  Our  present 
circumstances,  fellow-soldiers,  are  fraught  with  difficulty,  since 
we  are  deprived  of  such  able  generals,  and  captains,  and 
soldiers,  and  since,  also,  the  party  of  Ariasus,  who  were  for- 
merly our  supporters,  have  deserted  us;  yet  it  behooves  us 
to  extricate  ourselves  from  these  difficulties  as  brave  men, 
and  not  to  lose  courage,  but  to  endeavor  to  save  ourselves, 
if  we  can,  by  an  honorable  victory;  but  if  we  cannot  do  so, 
let  us  at  least  die  with  honor,  and  never,  while  we  live,  put 
ourselves  into  the  power  of  the  enemy;  for  I  think  that,  in 
that  case,  we  should  endure  such  sufferings  as  I  wish  that  the 
gods  may  inflict  on  our  adversaries."  Next  stood  up  Xeno- 
phon, who  had  accoutered  himself  for  war  as  splendidly  as 
he  could,  thinking  that  if  the  gods  should  grant  them  victory, 
the  finest  equipment  would  be  suitable  to  success,  or  that,  if 
it  were  appointed  for  him  to  die,  it  would  be  well  for  him  to 
adorn  himself  with  his  best  armor,  and  in  that  dress  to  meet 
his  end.  He  proceeded  to  speak  thus:  "Of  the  perjury  and 
perfidy  of  the  Barbarians  Cleanor  has  just  spoken,  and  you,  I 
am  sure,  are  well  aware  of  it.  If,  then,  we  think  of  coming 
again  to  terms  of  friendship  with  them,  we  must  of  necessity 
feel  much  distrust  on  that  head,  when  we  see  what  our  gen- 
erals have  suffered,  who,  in  reliance  on  their  faith,  put  them- 
selves into  their  hands ;  but  if  we  propose  to  inflict  on  them 
vengeance  with  our  swords  for  what  they  have  done,  and,  for 
the  future,  to  be  at  war  with  them  at  all  points,  we  have,  with 
the  help  of  the  gods,  many  fair  hopes  of  safety."  As  he  was 
uttering  these  words,  somebody  sneezed,  and  the  soldiers,  hear- 
ing it,  with  one  impulse  paid  their  adoration  to  the  god ;  and 
Xenophon  continued,  "Since,  soldiers,  while  we  were  speak- 
ing of  safety,  an  omen  from  Jupiter  the  Preserver  has  ap- 

A.  V.  1—5 


66  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

peared,  it  seems  to  me  that  we  should  vow  to  that  god  to  offer 
sacrifices  for  our  preservation  on  the  spot  where  we  first  reach 
a  friendly  country ;  and  that  we  should  vow,  at  the  same  time, 
to  sacrifice  to  the  other  gods  according  to  our  ability.  And 
to  whomsoever  this  seems  reasonable,  let  him  hold  up  his 
hand."  All  held  up  their  hands;  and  they  then  made  their 
vows,  and  sang  the  pa?an.  When  the  ceremonies  to  the  gods 
were  duly  performed,  he  recommenced  thus:  "It  only  re- 
mains for  me  to  mention  a  particular  which  I  consider  to  be 
of  the  greatest  importance.  You  see  that  the  enemy  did  not 
venture  openly  to  commence  war  against  us,  until  they  had 
seized  our  generals,  thinking  that  as  long  as  we  had  com- 
manders, and  were  obedient  to  them,  we  should  be  in  a  condi- 
tion to  gain  the  advantage  over  them  in  the  field,  but,  on 
making  prisoners  of  our  generals,  they  expected  that  we  should 
perish  from  want  of  direction  and  order.  It  is  incumbent, 
therefore,  on  our  present  commanders  to  be  far  more  vigilant 
than  our  former  ones,  and  on  those  under  command  to  be  far 
more  orderly,  and  more  obedient  to  their  officers,  at  present, 
than  they  were  before.  And  if  you  were  also  to  pass  a  resolu- 
tion, that,  should  any  one  be  disobedient,  whoever  of  you 
chances  to  light  upon  him,  is  to  join  with  his  officers  in  pun- 
ishing him,  the  enemy  would  by  that  means  be  most  effectu- 
ally disappointed  in  their  expectations,  for,  on  the  very  day 
that  such  resolution  is  passed,  they  will  see  before  them  ten 
thousand  Clearchuses  instead  of  one,  who  will  not  allow  a 
single  soldier  to  play  the  coward.  But  it  is  now  time  for  me 
to  conclude  my  speech ;  for  in  an  instant,  perhaps,  the  enemy 
will  be  upon  us.  Whosoever,  therefore,  thinks  these  sugges- 
tions reasonable,  let  him  give  his  sanction  to  them  at  once, 
that  they  may  be  carried  into  execution.  But  if  any  other 
course,  in  any  one's  opinion,  be  better  than  this,  let  him,  even 
though  he  be  a  private  soldier,  boldly  give  us  his  sentiments ; 
for  the  safety,  which  we  all  seek,  is  a  general  concern  of  the 
greatest  importance." 

Cheirisophus  then  said,  "Should  there  be  need  of  any 
other  measure  in  addition  to  what  Xenophon  proposes,  it  will 
be  in  our  power  to  bring  it  forward  by  and  by ;  what  he  has 
now  suggested  we  ought,  I  think,  to  vote  at  once  to  be  the 
best  course  that  we  can  adopt ;  and  to  whomsoever  this  seems 


XENOPHON  67 

proper,  let  him  hold  up  his  hand ;"  and  they  all  held  them  up. 
Xenophon  then,  rising  again,  said,  "Hear,  soldiers,  what 
appears  to  me  to  be  necessary  in  addition  to  what  I  have  laid 
before  you.  It  is  plain  that  we  must  march  to  some  place 
from  which  we  may  get  provisions ;  and  I  hear  that  there  are 
some  good-looking  villages  not  more  than  twenty  stadia  dis- 
tant; but  I  should  not  wonder  if  the  enemy  (like  cowardly 
dogs  that  run  after  such  as  pass  by  them,  and  bite  them  if 
they  can,  but  flee  from  those  who  pursue  them),  I  should  not 
wonder,  I  say,  if  the  enemy  were  to  follow  close  upon  us  when 
we  begin  to  march.  It  will,  perhaps,  be  the  safer  way  for 
us  to  march,  therefore,  forming  a  hollow  square  of  the  heavy- 
armed  troops,  in  order  that  the  baggage  and  the  large  number 
of  camp-followers  may  be  in  greater  security  within  it;  and 
if  it  be  now  settled  who  is  to  lead  the  square,  and  regulate 
the  movements  in  front,  who  are  to  be  on  each  flank,  and 
who  to  have  charge  of  the  rear,  we  shall  not  have  to  consider 
of  these  things  when  the  enemy  approach,  but  may  at  once 
act  according  to  what  has  been  arranged.  If,  then,  any  one 
else  sees  anything  better  to  recommend,  let  it  be  settled  other- 
wise ;  if  not,  let  Cheirisophus  lead,  since  he  is  also  a  Lacedae- 
monian ;  let  two  of  the  oldest  generals  take  the  command  on 
each  of  the  flanks ;  and  let  Timasion  and  myself,  the  youngest 
of  the  officers,  take  charge,  at  least  for  the  present,  of  the  rear. 
After  a  time,  when  we  have  tried  this  arrangement,  we  will 
consider,  as  occasion  may  require,  what  may  seem  best  to  be 
done.  If  any  one  thinks  of  any  better  plan  than  this,  let  him 
speak."  As  nobody  made  any  objection,  he  said,  "Whosoever 
likes  these  proposals,  let  him  hold  up  his  hand."  The  pro- 
posals were  approved.  "And  now,"  he  added,  "it  belongs  to 
you  to  go  and  carry  into  execution  what  has  beeH  decided 
upon  ;  and  whosoever  of  you  wishes  to  see  his  friends  and  rela- 
tions, let  him  prove  himself  a  man  of  valor,  for  by  no  other 
means  can  he  succeed  in  attaining  that  object;  whoever  of 
you  desires  to  preserve  his  life,  let  him  strive  to  conquer,  for 
it  is  the  part  of  conquerors  to  kill,  but  of  the  conquered  to 
die;  and  if  any  one  of  you  covets  spoil,  let  him  endeavor  to 
secure  victory  for  us,  for  it  is  the  privilege  of  victors  at  once 
to  save  their  own  property  and  to  seize  on  that  of  the  van- 
quished." 


68  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


m 

WHEN  this  speech  was  concluded,  they  rose  up,  and  went  off 
to  burn  their  carriages  and  tents;  of  their  superfluous  bag- 
gage they  divided  among  themselves  such  portions  as  any 
needed,  and  threw  the  rest  into  the  fire.  Having  done  this, 
they  went  to  breakfast.  While  they  were  at  their  meal, 
Mithridates  rode  up  to  them  with  about  thirty  horsemen,  and 
requesting  the  generals  to  come  within  hearing,  spoke  as  fol- 
lows: "I  was  faithful  to  Cyrus,  O  men  of  Greece,  as  you 
yourselves  know;  I  am  now  well  disposed  toward  you;  and 
I  am  living  here  under  great  apprehensions;  if,  therefore,  I 
should  find  that  you  are  concerting  any  safe  scheme  for  your 
deliverance,  I  would  come  and  join  you,  bringing  with  me  all 
my  followers.  Let  me  know,  therefore,  what  you  have  in  con- 
templation, as  one  who  is  your  friend  and  well-wisher,  and 
who  is  willing  to  march  along  with  you."  The  generals, 
after  consulting  together,  resolved  on  returning  the  following 
answer;  and  Cheirisophus  delivered  it:  "It  is  our  deter- 
mination, if  no  one  hinders  us  from  returning  home,  to  pro- 
ceed through  the  country  with  as  little  injury  to  it  as  possible ; 
but  if  any  one  opposes  us  on  our  march,  to  fight  our  way 
against  him  as  vigorously  as  we  can."  Mithridates  then  en- 
deavored to  convince  them  how  impracticable  it  was  to  escape 
without  the  king's  consent.  But  it  was  now  concluded  that 
he  was  insidiously  sent;  for  one  of  the  followers  of  Tissa- 
phernes  was  in  attendance  on  him  to  insure  his  fidelity. 
In  consequence,  it  was  thought  right  by  the  generals  to  pass 
a  resolution  that  the  war  should  be  such  as  to  admit  of  no 
intercourse  by  heralds;  for  those  that  came  tried  to  corrupt 
the  soldiers,  and  succeeded  in  seducing  one  of  the  captains, 
Nicarclms  an  Arcadian,  and  he  deserted  in  the  night  with 
about  twenty  men. 

Having  then  dined,  and  crossed  the  river  Zabatus,  they 
marched  on  in  regular  order,  keeping  the  baggage-cattle  and 
camp-followers  in  the  center.  But  before  they  had  gone  far, 
Mithridates  made  his  appearance  again  with  about  two  hun- 
dred cavalry  and  about  four  hundred  archers  and  slingers, 
very  light  and  active  troops.  He  advanced  toward  the 
Greeks  as  a  friend,  but  when  he  came  near,  some  of  his  men, 


XENOPHON  69 

both  horse  and  foot,  suddenly  discharged  their  arrows,  and 
others  used  their  slings,  and  wounded  some  of  our  men.  The 
rear  of  the  Greeks,  indeed,  was  much  harassed,  and  could  do 
nothing  in  return ;  for  the  Cretan  bowmen  shot  to  a  less 
distance  than  the  Persians,  and  had  also,  as  being  lightly 
armed,  sheltered  themselves  within  the  heavy  troops ;  and  the 
javelin-men  did  not  hurl  far  enough  to  reach  the  slingers. 

Upon  this  it  seemed  to  Xenophon  that  it  would  be  well  to 
pursue  them;  and  such  of  the  heavy-armed  and  peltasts  as 
happened  to  be  with  him  in  the  rear,  began  to  pursue,  but 
could  overtake  in  the  pursuit  not  a  single  man  of  the  enemy ; 
for  the  Greeks  had  no  cavalry,2  nor  could  their  infantry,  in 
a  short  distance  overtake  the  infantry  of  the  enemy,  who  took 
to  flight  when  they  were  a  long  way  off  since  it  was  impossi- 
ble for  the  Greeks  to  follow  them  to  a  great  distance  from  the 
rest  of  the  army.  The  Barbarian  cavalry,  too,  inflicted 
wounds  in  their  retreat,  shooting  backward  as  they  rode,  and 
however  far  the  Greeks  advanced  in  pursuit,  so  far  were  they 
obliged  to  retreat,  fighting.  Thus  during  the  whole  day  they 
did  not  advance  more  than  five-and-twenty  stadia;  however 
they  arrived  at  the  villages  in  the  evening. 

Here  again  there  was  much  dejection ;  and  Cheirisophus 
and  the  oldest  of  the  generals  blamed  Xenophon  for  pursuing 
the  enemy  apart  from  the  main  body,  endangering  himself, 
and  yet  being  unable  to  hurt  the  assailants.  Xenophon,  hear- 
ing this  charge,  acknowledged  that  they  blamed  him  justly, 
and  that  the  result  bore  testimony  in  their  favor.  "But," 
said  he,  "I  was  under  the  necessity  of  pursuing,  as  I  saw 
that  we  suffered  great  damage  while  remaining  at  our  posts, 
and  were  unable  to  retaliate.  But  when  we  began  to  pursue," 
continued  he,  "the  truth  was  as  you  say;  for  we  were  none 
the  better  able  to  injure  the  enemy,  and  we  could  not  retreat 
without  great  difficulty.  Thanks  are  due  to  the  gods,  there- 
fore, that  the  Barbarians  did"  not  come  upon  us  in  great  force, 
but  only  with  a  few  troops,  so  that,  while  they  did  us  no  great 
harm,  they  showed  us  of  what  we  stand  in  need :  for  at  pres- 
ent the  enemy  shoot  their  arrows  and  sling  their  stones  such 

2  Cyrus's  Greek  auxiliaries  for  the  expedition  had  consisted  only  of 
infantry;  all  his  cavalry  was  either  Asiatic  or  Thracian.  The  Thracian 
horse  had  deserted,  and  the  Asiatic  cavalry  had  gone  over  to  Tissaphernes 
soon  after  the  battle. 


70  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

a  distance,  that  neither  can  the  Cretans  return  their  shots, 
nor  can  those  who  throw  with  the  hand  reach  them,  and  when 
we  pursue  them,  we  can  not  go  after  them  any  great  distance 
from  the  main  body,  and  in  a  short  space,  a  foot-soldier,  even 
if  ever  so  swift,  can  not  overtake  another  foot-soldier,  start- 
ing at  bow-shot  distance.  If,  therefore,  we  would  keep  off 
the  enemy,  so  that  they  may  be  unable  to  hurt  us  on  our 
march,  we  must  at  once  provide  ourselves  with  slingers  and 
cavalry.  There  are,  I  hear,  some  Rhodians  in  our  army,  the 
greater  number  of  whom,  they  say,  understand  the  use  of  the 
sling,  while  their  weapon  carries  even  double  the  distance  of 
the  Persian  sling,  which,  as  they  sling  with  large  stones,  reach 
only  a  short  distance,  while  the  Rhodians  know  how  to  use 
leaden  bullets.  If,  then,  we  ascertain  which  of  them  have 
slings,  and  give  money  to  each  of  them  for  them;  and  pay 
money  also  to  any  one  who  is  willing  to  plait  more,  and  find 
some  other  privilege  for  him  who  consents  to  serve  in  the 
troop  of  slingers,  possibly  some  will  offer  themselves  who  may 
be  able  to  be  of  service  to  us.  I  see  also  that  there  are  horses 
in  the  army,  some  in  my  possession,  and  some  left  by  Clear- 
chus,  besides  many  others  taken  from  the  enemy  which  are 
employed  in  carrying  the  baggage.  If,  then,  we  collect  all 
these,  and  put  ordinary  baggage-cattle  in  their  place,  and 
equip  the  horses  for  riders,  they  will  perhaps  annoy  the 
enemy  in  their  flight."  These  suggestions  were  approved; 
and  that  very  night  there  .came  forward  slingers  to  the  num- 
ber of  two  hundred.  The  next  day,  as  many  as  fifty  horse- 
men and  horses  wrere  pronounced  fit  for  service;  leathern 
jackets  and  breastplates  were  furnished  to  them;  and  Lycius 
the  son  of  Polystratus,  an  Athenian,  was  appointed  captain. 

IV 

HAVING  halted  for  that  day,  they  went  forward  on  the  next, 
rising  earlier  in  the  morning  than  usual ;  for  they  had  a 
ravine  formed  by  a  torrent  to  pass,  at  which  they  were  afraid 
that  the  enemy  would  attack  them  while  they  were  crossing. 
It  was  not  till  they  had  got  over,  however,  that  Mithridates 
again  made  his  appearance,  having  now  with  him  a  thousand 
horse,  and  archers  and  slingers  to  the  number  of  four  thou- 
sand ;  for  he  had  solicited  and  obtained  that  number  from 


XENOPHON  71 

Tissaphernes,  promising  that,  if  he  received  them,  he  would 
deliver  the  Greeks  into  his  hands ;  for  he  had  conceived  a 
contempt  for  them,  because,  in  his  previous  attack  on  them, 
though  he  had  but  a  small  force  with  him,  he  had  suffered 
no  loss,  and  thought  that  he  had  caused  them  great  annoyance. 
When  the  Greeks,  having  crossed,  were  distant  about  eight 
stadia  from  the  ravine,  Mithridates  also  passed  over  it  with 
IMS  force.  Instructions  had  been  issued  to  such  of  the 
peltasts  and  heavy-armed  troops  as  were  to  pursue,  and  a 
charge  had  been  given  to  the  horsemen  to  pursue  with  bold- 
ness, as  a  sufficient  force  would  follow  to  support  them. 
When,  therefore,  Mithridates  overtook  them,  and  the  slings 
and  arrows  began  to  take  effect,  a  signal  was  given  to  the 
Greeks  with  the  trumpet,  and  those  who  had  been  ordered 
immediately  hastened  to  charge  the  enemy,  the  cavalry  rid- 
ing forward  at  the  same  time.  The  enemy,  however,  did 
not  wait  to  receive  their  charge,  but  fled  back  to  the  ravine. 
In  the  pursuit  several  of  the  Barbarian  foot  were  killed,  and 
about  eighteen  of  the  horse  were  made  prisoners  in  the  defile. 
The  Greeks,  of  their  own  impulse,  mutilated  the  dead  bodies, 
in  order  that  the  sight  of  them  might  be  as  horrible  as  possible 
to  the  enemy.  The  enemy,  after  faring  thus,  went  off,  and 
the  Greeks,  advancing  the  rest  of  the  day  without  molestation, 
arrived  at  the  river  Tigris.  Here  was  a  large  deserted  city, 
the  name  of  which  was  Larissa,  and  which  the  Medes  had 
formerly  inhabited.  The  breadth  of  its  wall  was  five  and 
twenty  feet,  and  the  height  of  it  a  hundred ;  its  circuit  was 
two  parasangs.  It  was  built  of  bricks  made  of  clay,  but 
there  was  under  it  a  stone  foundation,  the  height  of  twenty 
feet.  .  .  . 

On  the  fourth  day  thereafter,  the  Barbarians,  having  gone 
forward  in  the  night,  occupied  an  elevated  position  on  the 
right,  on  the  route  by  which  the  Greeks  were  to  pass;  the 
brow  of  a  mountain,  beneath  which  was  the  descent  into  the 
plain.  As  soon  as  Cheirisophus  saw  that  this  eminence  was 
pre-occupied,  he  sent  for  Xenophon  from,  the  rear,  and 
ordered  him  to  bring  his  peltasts  and  come  to  the  front. 
Xenophon  however  did  not  bring  the  peltasts,  (for  he  saw 
Tissaphernes,  and  all  his  force,  in  full  view),  but,  riding  up 
alone,  asked,  "Why  do  you  call  me?"  Cheirisophus  replied, 


72  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

"You  may  see;  for  the  eminence  above  the  descent  has  been 
pro-occupied  against  us,  and  it  is  impossible  to  pass,  unless  we 
cut  off  those  who  are  on  it.  But  why  did  you  not  bring  the 
peltasts?"  Xenophon  replied  that  he  did  not  think  it  right 
to  leave  the  rear  unguarded  when  the  enemy  were  in  sight. 
"But  it  is  high  time,"  he  continued,  "to  consider  how  some 
of  us  may  dislodge  those  men  from  the  hill."  Xenophon  now 
noticed  that  the  summit  of  the  mountain  was  above  their 
own  army,  and  that  there  was  a  way  from  it  to  the  hill  where 
the  enemy  were,  and  exclaimed,  "It  is  best  for  us,  Cheiriso- 
phus,  to  hasten  as  quickly  as  possible  to  the  summit,  for  if 
we  gain  this,  those  who  are  above  our  road  will  be  unable 
to  maintain  their  ground.  But  do  you,  if  you  please,  remain 
with  the  army ;  I  have  a  desire  to  go  forward ;  or,  if  you 
prefer  it,  proceed  on  to  the  mountain,  and  I  will  stay  here." 
"I  leave  you,"  replied  Cheirisophus,  "to  choose  which  of 
the  two  you  please."  Xenophon,  observing  that  he  was  the 
younger,  decided  on  advancing,  but  requested  Cheirisophus 
to  send  with  him  a  detachment  from  the  front,  as  it  was  too 
great  a  distance  to  bring  one  from  the  rear.  Cheirisophus 
then  sent  with  him  the  peltasts  from  the  front ;  and  he  took 
those  that  were  in  the  middle  of  the  square.  Cheirisophus 
also  ordered  the  three  hundred  that  he  held  with  him  at  the 
head  of  the  square,  consisting  of  picked  men,  to  follow 
Xenophon. 

The  party  then  marched  forward  with  all  possible  speed. 
But  the  enemy  on  the  heights,  when  they  perceived  that 
the  Greeks  were  directing  their  course  toward  the  summit, 
hurried  forward  also  themselves  to  contend  for  the  posses- 
sion of  the  summit.  There  was  then  great  shouting  from  the 
Grecian  army,  cheering  their  men,  and  great  shouting  also 
from  the  troops  of  Tissaphernes,  cheering  on  theirs.  Xeno- 
phon, riding  along  on  horseback,  encouraged  his  party,  say- 
ing, "Consider,  soldiers,  that  you  are  now  contending  for 
Greece :  that  after  a  brief  struggle  now,  we  shall  march  the 
rest  of  the  way  without  fighting,  to  join  our  children  and 
our  wives."  Soterides,  a  Sicyonian,  cried  out,  "\\re  are  not 
upon  an  equality,  Xenophon;  for  you  are  carried  on  a 
horse,  while  I  have  hard  work  to  carry  my  shield."  Xeno- 
phon, on  hearing  this  remark,  leaped  from  his  horse,  pushed 


XENOPHON  73 

Soterides  from  the  ranks,  took  from  him  the  shield,  and 
marched  on  with  it  as  fast  as  he  was  able.  He  happened 
however  to  have  on  his  horseman's  corslet,  so  that  he  was 
distressed.  Yet  he  continued  to  exhort  the  men  in  front  to 
lead  on  gently,  and  those  behind,  who  followed  with  difficulty, 
to  come  up.  But  the  rest  of  the  soldiers  beat  and  threw 
stones  at  Soterides,  and  reviled  him  till  they  obliged  him  to  re- 
sume his  shield  and  march  in  his  place.  Xenophon,  remount- 
ing, led  the  way,  as  long  as  it  was  passable  for  his  horse,  on 
horseback,  but  when  it  became  impassable,  he  left  his  horse 
behind,  and  hastened  forward  on  foot.  Thus  they  got  the 
start  of  the  enemy,  and  arrived  first  at  the  summit.  .  .  . 


HENCE  they  proceeded  three  days'  journey  through  a  desert 
tract  of  country,  a  distance  of  fifteen  parasangs,  to  the 
river  Euphrates,  and  passed  it  without  being  wet  higher  than 
the  middle.  The  sources  of  the  river  were  said  not  to  be 
far  off.  From  hence  they  advanced  three  days'  march, 
through  much  snow  and  a  level  plain,  a  distance  of  fifteen 
parasangs;  the  third  day's  march  was  extremely  trouble- 
some, as  the  north  wind  blew  full  in  their  faces,  completely 
parching  up  everything  and  benumbing  the  men.  One  of 
the  augurs,  in  consequence,  advised  that  they  should  sacrifice 
to  the  wind ;  and  a  sacrifice  was  accordingly  offered ;  when 
the  vehemence  of  the  wind  appeared  to  every  one  manifestly 
to  abate.  The  depth  of  the  snow  was  a  fathom;  so  that 
many  of  the  baggage  cattle  and  slaves  perished  with  about 
thirty  of  the  soldiers.  They  continued  to  burn  fires  through 
the  whole  night,  for  there  was  plenty  of  wood  at  the  place 
of  encampment.  But  those  who  came  up  late  could  get 
no  wood;  those  therefore  who  had  arrived  before,  and  had 
kindled  fires,  would  not  admit  the  late  comers  to  the  fire 
unless  they  gave  them  a  share  of  the  corn  or  other  pro- 
visions that  they  had  brought.  Thus  they  shared  with  each 
other  what  they  respectively  had.  In  the  places  where  the 
fires  were  made,  as  the  snow  melted,  there  were  formed  large 
pits  that  reached  down  to  the  ground;  and  here  there  was 
accordingly  opportunity  to  measure  the  depth  of  the  snow. 
From  hence  they  marched  through  snow  the  whole  of  the 


74  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

following  day,  and  many  of  the  men  contracted  the  bulimia.3 
Xenophon,  who  commanded  in  the  rear,  finding  in  his  way 
such  of  the  men  as  had  fallen  down  with  it,  knew  not  what 
disease  it  was.  But  as  one  of  those  acquainted  with  it,  told 
him  that  they  were  evidently  affected  with  'bulimia,  and  that 
they  would  get  up  if  they  had  something  to  eat,  he  went 
round  among  the  baggage,  and,  wherever  he  saw  anything 
eatable,  he  gave  it  out,  and  sent  such  as  were  able  to  run  to 
distribute  it  among  those  diseased,  who,  as  soon  as  they  had 
eaten,  rose  up  and  continued  their  march.  As  they  pro- 
ceeded, Cheirisophus  came,  just  as  it  grew  dark,  to  a  village, 
and  found,  at  a  spring  in  front  of  the  rampart,  some  women 
and  girls  belonging  to  the  place  fetching  water.  The  women 
asked  them  wrho  they  were  ;  and  the  interpreter  answrered,  in 
the  Persian  language,  that  they  were  people  going  from  the 
king  to  the  satrap.  They  replied  that  he  was  not  there,  but 
about  a  parasaug  off.  However,  as  it  was  late,  they  went  with 
the  water-carriers  within  the  rampart,  to  the  head  man  of 
the  village  ;  and  here  Cheirisophus,  and  as  many  of  the  troops 
as  could  come  up,  encamped;  but  of  the  rest,  such  as  were 
unable  to  get  to  the  end  of  the  journey,  spent  the  night 
on  the  way  without  food  or  fire;  and  some  of  the  soldiers 
lost  their  lives  on  that  occasion.  Some  of  the  enemy  too, 
who  had  collected  themselves  into  a  body,  pursued  our  rear, 
and  seized  any  of  the  baggage-cattle  that  were  unable  to 
proceed,  fighting  with  one  another  for  the  possession  of 
them.  Such  of  the  soldiers,  also,  as  had  lost  their  sight 
from  the  effects  of  the  snow,  or  had  had  their  toes  mortified 
by  the  cold,  were  left  behind.  It  was  found  to  be  a  relief 
to  the  eyes  against  the  snow,  if  the  soldiers  kept  something 
black  before  them  on  the  march,  and  to  the  feet,  if  they, 
kept  constantly  in  motion,  and  allowed  themselves  no  rest, 
and  if  they  took  off  their  shoes  in  the  night  ;  but  as  to  such 
as  slept  with  their  shoes  on,  the  straps  worked  into  their  feet, 
and  the  soles  were  frozen  about  them;  for  when  their  old 
shoes  had  failed  them,  shoes  of  raw  hides  had  been  made 


v.  |  Spelman  quotes  a  description  of  the  bulimia  as  "a 
disease  in  which  the  patient  frequently  craves  for  food,  loses  the  use  of 
his  limbs,  falls  down,  turns  pale,  feels  his  extremities  become  cold,  his 
stomach  oppressed,  and  his  pulso  feeble."  Here,  however,  it  seems  to 
mean  littlo  more  than  a  faintness  from  long  fasting. 


XENOPHON  75 

by  the  men  themselves  from  the  newly-skinned  oxen.  From 
such  unavoidable  sufferings,  some  of  the  soldiers  were  left 
behind,  who,  seeing  a  piece  of  ground  of  a  black  appearance, 
from  the  snow  having  disappeared  there,  conjectured  that  it 
must  have  melted ;  and  it  had  in  fact  melted  in  the  spot 
from  the  effect  of  a  fountain,  which  was  sending  up  vapor  in 
a  woody  hollow  close  at  hand.  Turning  aside  thither,  they 
sat  down  and  refused  to  proceed  further.  Xenophon,  who 
was  with  the  rear-guard,  as  soon  as  he  heard  this,  tried  to 
prevail  on  them  by  every  art  and  means  not  to  be  left  be- 
hind, telling  them,  at  the  same  time,  that  the  enemy  were 
collected,  and  pursuing  them  in  great  numbers.  At  last  he 
grew  angry;  and  they  told  him  to  kill  them,  as  they  were 
quite  unable  to  go  forward.  He  then  thought  it  the  best 
course  to  strike  a  terror,  if  possible,  into  the  enemy  that  were 
behind,  lest  they  should  fall  upon  the  exhausted  soldiers. 
It  was  now  dark,  and  the  enemy  were  advancing  with  a  great 
noise,  quarreling  about  the  booty  that  they  had  taken ;  when 
such  of  the  rear-guard  as  were  not  disabled,  started  up,  and 
rushed  toward  them,  while  the  tired  men,  shouting  as  loud 
as  they  could,  clashed  their  spears  against  their  shields. 
The  enemy,  struck  with  alarm,  threw  themselves  among  the 
snow  into  the  hollow,  and  no  one  of  them  afterward  made 
themselves  heard  from  any  quarter. 

Xenophon,  and  those  with  him,  telling  the  sick  men  that 
a  party  should  come  to  their  relief  next  day,  proceeded  on 
their  march,  but  before  they  had  gone  four  stadia,  they  found 
other  soldiers  resting  by  the  way  in  the  snow,  and  covered 
up  with  it,  no  guard  being  stationed  over  them.  They  roused 
them  up,  but  they  said  that  the  head  of  the  army  was  not 
moving  forward.  Xeuophon,  going  past  them,  and  send- 
ing on  some  of  the  ablest  of  the  peltasts,  ordered  them  to  ascer- 
tain what  it  was  that  hindered  their  progress.  They  brought 
word  that  the  whole  army  was  in  that  manner  taking  rest. 
Xenophon  and  his  men,  therefore,  stationing  such  a  guard 
as  they  could,  took  up  their  quarters  there  without  fire  or 
supper.  AVhen  it  was  near  day,  he  sent  the  youngest  of  his 
men  to  the  sick,  telling  them  to  rouse  them  and  oblige  them 
to  proceed.  At  this  juncture  Cheirisophus  sent  some  of  his 
people  from  the  village  to  see  how  the  rear  were  faring. 


7(>  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

The  young  men  were  rejoiced  to  see  them,  and  gave  them  the 
sk-k  to  conduct  to  the  camp,  while  they  themselves  went  for- 
ward, and,  before  they  had  gone  twenty  stadia,  found  them- 
selves at  the  village  in  which  Cheirisophus  was  quartered. 
When  they  came  together,  it  was  thought  safe  enough  to 
lodge  the  troops  up  and  down  in  the  villages.  Cheirisophus 
accordingly  remained  where  he  was,  and  the  other  officers, 
appropriating  by  lot  the  several  villages  that  they  had  in 
sight,  went  to  their  respective  quarters  with  their  men. 

VI 

THEY  finally  advanced  four  days'  journey,  twenty  parasangs, 
to  a  large,  rich  and  populous  city,  called  Gymnias,  from 
which  the  governor  of  the  country  sent  the  Greeks  a  guide, 
to  conduct  them  through  a  region  at  war  with  his  own 
people.  The  guide,  when  he  came,  said  that  he  would  take 
them  in  five  days  to  a  place  whence  they  should  see  the  sea ; 
if  not,  he  would  consent  to  be  put  to  death.  "When,  as  he 
proceeded,  he  entered  the  country  of  their  enemies,  he  ex- 
horted them  to  burn  and  lay  waste  the  lands;  \vhence  it  was 
evident  that  he  had  come  for  this  very  purpose,  and  not 
from  any  good  will  to  the  Greeks.  On  the  fifth  day  they 
came  to  the  mountain;  and  the  name  of  it  was  Theehes. 
When  the  men  who  were  in  the  front  had  mounted  the  height, 
and  looked  down  upon  the  sea,  a  great  shout  proceeded 
from  them ;  and  Xenophon  and  the  rear-guard,  on  hearing 
it,  thought  that  £ome  new  enemies  were  assailing  the  front,  for 
in  the  rear,  too,  the  people  from  the  country  that  they  had 
burned  were  following  them,  and  the  rear-guard,  by  placing 
an  ambuscade,  had  killed  some,  and  taken  others  prisoners, 
and  had  captured  about  twenty  shields  made  of  raw  ox-hides 
with  the  hair  on.  But  as  the  noise  still  increased,  and  drew 
nearer,  and  as  those  who  came  up  from  time  to  time  kept 
running  at  full  speed  to  join  those  who  were  continually 
shouting,  the  cries  becoming  louder  as  the  men  became  more 
numerous,  it  appeared  to  Xenophon  that  it  must  be  some- 
thing of  very  great  moment.  Mounting  his  horse,  therefore, 
and  taking  with  him  Lycius  and  the  cavalry,  he  hastened 
forward  to  give  aid,  when  presently  they  heard  the  soldiers 
shouting,  "The  sea,  the  sea!"  and  cheering  on  one  another. 


XENOPHON  77 

They  then  all  began  to  run,  the  rear-guard  as  well  as  the 
rest,  and  the  baggage-cattle  and  horses  were  put  to  their 
speed;  and  when  they  had  all  arrived  at  the  top,  the  men 
embraced  one  another,  and  their  generals  and  captains,  with 
tears  in  their  eyes.  Suddenly,  whoever  it  was  that  suggested 
it,  the  soldiers  brought  stones,  and  raised  a  large  mound,  on 
which  they  laid  a  number  of  raw  ox-hides,  staves,  and  shields 
taken  from  the  enemy.  Soon  after,  the  Greeks  sent  away 
the  guide,  giving  him  presents  from  the  common  stock,  a 
horse,  a  silver  cup,  a  Persian  robe,  and  ten  darics;  but  he 
showed  most  desire  for  the  rings  on  their  fingers,  and  ob- 
tained many  of  them  from  the  soldiers.  He  then  departed, 
having  pointed  out  to  them  a  village  where  they  might  take 
up  their  quarters,  and  the  road  by  which  they  were  to 
proceed. 

VII 

IT  was  soon  afterward  resolved  that  the  generals  should  give 
an  account  of  their  conduct  during  the  time  past.  Some 
brought  accusations  against  Xenophon,  alleging  that  they  had 
been  beaten  by  him;  and  made  their  charges  on  the  ground 
that  his  conduct  had  been  tyrannical.  Xenophon,  standing 
up,  called  upon  him  who  had  spoken  first,  to  say  where 
he  had  been  beaten.  He  replied,  "Where  we  were  perishing 
with  the  cold,  and  where  the  greatest  fall  of  snow  was." 
Xenophon  rejoined,  "If,  during  such  severe  weather  as  you 
mention,  when  provisions  were  failing  us,  when  we  had  not 
wine  even  to  smell  to,  when  many  of  us  were  exhausted 
with  fatigue,  and  the  enemy  were  close  behind  us,  if,  I  say, 
I  acted  tyrannically  at  such  a  time,  I  acknowledge  that  I 
must  have  been  more  spiteful  even  than  asses,  in  which  they 
say  that  from  spite  fatigue  is  not  produced.  Tell  us,  how- 
ever, for  what  cause  you  were  beaten.  Did  I  ask  you  for 
anything,  and  beat  you  when  you  would  not  give  it  me? 
Or  did  I  demand  anything  back  from  you,  or  was  I  fighting 
about  any  object  of  affection,  or  did  I  abuse  you  in  a  fit  of 
intoxication?"  As  he  said  that  there  was  nothing  of  this 
kind,  Xenophon  asked  him  whether  he  was  one  of  the  heavy- 
armed  men?  He  answered,  "No."  Whether  he  was  one  of 
the  peltasts?  He  said  that  he  was  not,  but  was  a  free-man, 


78  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

set  to  drive  a  mnle  by  his  comrades.  Xenophon  now 
recognized  him,  and  asked  him,  "Are  you  the  man  that 
was  carrying  the  sick  person?"  "I  certainly  am,"  replied 
he,  "for  you  compelled  me  to  do  so,  and  scattered  about  the 
baggage  of  my  comrades."  ''The  scattering,"  rejoined 
Xenophon,  "was  something  in  this  way;  I  distributed  it  to 
others  to  carry,  and  directed  them  to  bring  it  to  me  again; 
and,  on  receiving  it,  I  restored  it  all  safe  to  you,  after 
you  had  produced  the  man  that  I  gave  you  in  charge.  But 
hear,"  he  continued,  "how  the  affair  happened;  for  it  is 
worth  your  while.  A  man  was  left  behind  because  he  was 
no  longer  able  to  continue  his  march ;  I  knew  nothing  of 
the  man  but  that  he  was  one  of  us;  and  I  obliged  you  to 
carry  him,  that  he  might  not  perish;  for,  as  I  believe,  the 
enemy  were  in  pursuit  of  us."  This  the  man  acknowledged. 
"Then,"  said  Xenophon,  "after  I  had  ordered  you  to  go 
before,  I  soon  overtook  you,  and  found  you,  as  I  came  up 
with  the  rear-guard,  digging  a  pit  for  the  purpose  of  burying 
the  man ;  when  I  stopped  and  commended  you.  But  as  the 
man,  while  we  stood  by,  drew  in  his  leg,  all  who  were  present 
cried  out  that  he  was  alive;  and  you  said,  'He  may  be  as 
much  alive  as  he  likes,  for  I  shall  not  carry  him. '  Upon  this 
I  struck  you ;  you  say  but  the  truth ;  for  you  seemed  to  me 
to  have  been  aware  that  the  man  was  alive."  "What  then," 
exclaimed  the  accuser,  "did  he  the  less  die,  after  I  had 
shown  him  to  you?"  "We  shall  all  die,"  rejoined  Xenophon, 
"but  must  \ve  for  that  reason  be  buried  alive?"  At  this 
all  the  assembly  cried  out  that  Xenophon  had  not  beaten  him 
enough. 

He  then  called  upon  the  rest  to  state  on  what  account  each 
of  them  had  been  struck.  But  as  none  of  them  stood  for- 
ward, he  said,  "I  acknowledge,  fellow-soldiers,  that  I  have 
beaten  men  for  leaving  their  ranks;  such  men  as  were  con- 
tent to  be  saved  by  our  exertions,  and,  while  we  marched  in 
order  and  fought  where  it  was  necessary,  tried,  by  quitting 
their  places,  and  hurrying  on  before  us,  to  get  plunder,  and 
gain  in  that  respect  an  advantage  over  us.  Had  we  all  acted 
in  this  way,  we  should  all  have  perished.  I  also  struck 
some,  and  forced  them  to  march,  who  were  giving  way  to  in- 
action, unwilling  to  rise,  and  abandoning  themselves  to  the 


XENOPHON  79 

enemy;  for  I  myself,  when  I  was  once  waiting,  during  the 
excessive  cold,  for  some  of  the  men  to  pack  up  their  baggage, 
and  had  sat  for  a  considerable  time,  found  that  I  could  hardly 
get  up  and  stretch  my  legs.  Having  therefore  had  experi- 
ence in  my  own  person,  whenever  afterward  I  saw  any 
other  sitting  down  and  indulging  in  sloth,  I  drove  him  on; 
for  motion  and  manful  exertion  created  a  certain  warmth  and 
suppleness,  but  sitting  and  inaction,  I  observed,  contributed 
to  the  congealing  of  the  blood,  and  the  mortification  of  the 
toes,  which  you  know  that  many  have  suffered.  Others, 
perhaps,  who  had  loitered  behind  from  indolence,  and  who 
hindered  both  you  who  were  in  front,  and  us  who  were  in 
the  rear,  from  advancing,  I  may  have  struck  with  my  fist,  that 
they  might  not  be  struck  with  the  spear  of  the  enemy.  Those, 
therefore,  who  have  thus  been  preserved,  may  now,  if  they 
have  suffered  anything  from  me  contrary  to  justice,  obtain 
redress ;  but  if  they  had  fallen  into  the  hands  of  the  enemy, 
what  injury  could  they  have  suffered  of  such  magnitude,  as 
that  they  would  ever  have  claimed  to  get  satisfaction  for 
it !  My  case, ' '  he  proceeded,  ' '  is  plain ;  for  if  I  have  punished 
any  one  for  his  good,  I  am  willing  to  make  such  atonement 
as  parents  make  to  their  children  and  masters  to  their 
scholars.  Surgeons,  too,  cut  and  cauterize  for  the  good  of 
their  patients.  But  if  you  imagine  that  I  acted  thus  from  a 
love  of  tyranny,  consider  that  I  have  now,  through  the 
favor  of  the  gods,  more  spirit  than  I  had  then,  and  am 
bolder  now  than  I  then  was,  and  drink  a  greater  quantity  of 
wine,  and  yet  strike  no  one ;  for  I  see  you  now  in  a  calm ; 
but  when  a  storm  rises,  and  a  great  sea  sets  in,  do  you  not 
observe  that  the  commander  in  the  prow,  even  for  a  mere 
nod,  is  angry  with  those  in  the  fore-part  of  the  vessel,  and 
the  steersman  angry  with  those  in  the  stern,  because,  in  such 
circumstances,  even  small  mistakes  are  sufficient  to  ruin  every- 
thing? Even  you  yourselves,  however,  have  pronounced  that 
I  struck  these  men,  on  those  occasions,  with  justice,  for  you 
stood  by  with  swords,  not  voting-pebbles,  in  your  hands,  and 
might  have  taken  their  part  if  you  had  thought  proper. 
But,  by  Jupiter,  you  neither  took  their  part,  nor  joined  with 
me  in  punishing  the  disorderly ;  and  you  have  in  consequence, 
by  letting  them  alone,  given  encouragement  to  the  bad  men 


80  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

among  them  to  grow  audacious;  for  you  will  find,  I  think, 
if  you  will  but  examine,  that  those  who  were  then  the 
worst,  are  now  the  most  audacious  characters.  Boiscus,  for 
instance,  the  Thessalian  boxer,  strove  earnestly,  on  pretense 
of  sickness,  not  to  carry  his  shield ;  and  now,  as  I  hear,  he 
has  robbed  many  of  the  people  of  Cotyora.  If  therefore 
you  aro  wise,  you  will  treat  this  man  in  a  way,  the  reverse 
of  that  in  which  they  treat  dogs;  for  dogs,  when  they  are 
spiteful,  men  tie  up  in  the  day,  and  let  loose  in  the  night; 
but  him,  if  you  exercise  your  judgment,  you  will  tie  up  in  the 
night,  and  let  loose  only  by  day.  But  I  wonder,"  he  added, 
"why,  if  I  gave  offense  to  any  of  you,  you  bear  it  in  mind, 
and  do  not  fail  to  speak  of  it,  while,  if  I  relieved  any  of  you 
during  the  cold,  or  kept  off  any  enemy  from  you,  or  sup- 
plied any  of  you,  in  any  way,  when  sick  and  in  want,  no 
one  makes  mention  of  these  services;  nor,  if  I  have  com- 
mended any  one  for  good  conduct  in  any  case,  or  have  hon- 
ored any  man,  as  far  as  I  could,  for  valiant  exertion,  does 
any  of  you  remember  these  occurrences.  Yet  is  it  more  hon- 
orable, and  just,  and  upright,  and  pleasing,  to  treasure  in  the 
memory  good  acts  than  bad." 

They  accordingly  rose  up,  and  called  to  mind  his  services; 
and  the  result  was  that  things  were  settled  satisfactorily. 

VIII 

THE  troops  stayed  five  days  at  Harmene;  and  as  they  con- 
sidered that  they  were  now  near  Greece,  it  became  an  object 
with  them,  even  more  than  before,  to  return  home  with  some 
booty  in  their  possession.  And  they  thought  that,  if  they 
made  choice  of  one  general,  that  single  person  would  be  better 
able  to  manage  the  army,  whether  by  night  or  day,  than  it 
was  managed  under  the  existing  government  of  several;  so 
that  if  it  should  be  necessary  for  them,  in  any  case,  to  con- 
ceal their  designs,  they  would  be  concealed  more  effectually, 
and  if  to  anticipate  the  movements  of  the  enemy,  they  would 
be  less  likely  to  be  behind-hand;  as  there  would  then  be  no 
need  of  conferences,  but  whatever  was  determined  by  the 
one  commander  would  be  put  in  execution ;  whereas  the  gen- 
erals had  hitherto  done  everything  by  the  vote  of  the  ma- 
jority. While  they  were  contemplating  this  scheme,  they 


XENOPHON  81 

turned  their  thoughts  to  Xenophon;  and  the  captains  came 
to  him  and  said  that  the  army  was  of  this  opinion,  and  each, 
expressing  his  good-will  toward  him,  endeavored  to  induce 
him  to  undertake  the  command.  Xenophon  was  in  some  de- 
gree inclined  to  listen  to  the  proposal,  when  he  reflected  that, 
by  this  means,  greater  honor  would  fall  to  him,  that  his  name 
would  reach  his  friends  and  his  country  with  greater  glory, 
and  that  possibly  he  might  also  be  the  cause  of  some  advan- 
tage to  the  army.  Such  considerations  influenced  him  to  de- 
sire to  become  commander-in-chief.  But  when,  on  the  other 
hand,  he  remembered  how  uncertain  it  is  to  all  men  what 
the  future  will  produce,  and  that,  consequently,  he  would 
be  in  danger  of  losing  the  reputation  which  he  had  already  ac- 
quired, he  felt  uncertain  how  to  act. 

While  he  was  perplexed  as  to  his  decision,  it  appeared 
to  him  that  the  best  thing  that  he  could  do  was  to  lay  the 
matter  before  the  gods;  and  having  placed  by  the  altar  two 
victims,4  he  sacrificed  to  Jupiter  the  King,  who  had  been 
pointed  out  to  him  as  the  god  that  he  should  consult,  by  the 
oracle  at  Delphi ;  and  he  thought  that  he  had  received  from 
that  god  the  dream  which  he  saw,  when  he  was  first  appointed 
to  take  charge  of  the  army.  He  called  to  mind  also,  that 
when  he  was  going  from  Ephesus  to  join  Cyrus,  an  eagle 
cried  on  his  right,  in  a  sitting  posture  however,  which,  as  the 
augur,  who  accompanied  him,  said,  was  an  omen  portending 
something  great,  above  the  fortunes  of  a  private  individual; 
foretelling  what  was  honorable,  but  toilsome,  since  other 
birds  attack  the  eagle  chiefly  when  sitting;  and  he  added 
that  the  omen  was  not  at  all  indicative  of  gain,  as  the  eagle 
mostly  secured  prey  when  flying.  While  he  was  sacrificing 
on  the  present  occasion,  the  god  clearly  directed  him  not 
to  seek  any  additional  command,  and  not  to  accept  it  if  they 
should  elect  him ;  and  this  was  the  issue  of  the  matter.  The 
army  however  came  together,  and  all  suggested  that  one 
commander  should  be  chosen ;  and,  as  it  was  resolved  to  do  so, 
they  proposed  Xenophon.  As  it  seemed  evident  too  that 
they  would  elect  him,  if  any  one  should  put  it  to  the  vote, 
he  rose  up  and  spoke  as  follows:  ''My  fellow-soldiers,  I  am 

*  Two  victims  were  brought,  that  if  favorable  omens  were  not  obtained 
from  the  first,  the  second  might  be  used. 
A.  V.  1—9 


82  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

delighted,  as  I  have  the  feelings  of  a  man,  at  receiving 
honor  from  you,  and  am  grateful  for  it,  and  pray  that  the 
gods  may  grant  me  to  be  the  author  of  some  advantage  to 
you ;  but  that  I  should  be  preferred  to  be  your  leader,  when  a 
Lacedaemonian  is  present,  appears  likely  to  be  of  no  advan- 
tage either  to  you  or  me ;  on  the  contrary,  it  seems  probable 
that  if  you  should  require  assistance  from  them,  you  would 
on  this  very  account  be  less  likely  to  obtain  it.  I  moreover 
think  such  a  dignity  by  no  means  safe  for  me;  for  I  see 
that  the  Lacedaemonians  never  ceased  making  war  on  my 
country  until  they  made  the  whole  people  acknowledge  that 
the  Lacedaemonians  were  masters  of  them  as  well  as  of 
others;6  though,  when  they  made  this  confession,  they  at 
once  desisted-  from  hostilities,  and  no  longer  besieged  the 
city.  If  therefore,  seeing  this  state  of  things,  I  should  seem, 
where  I  have  the  power,  to  render  their  supremacy  unin- 
fluential,  I  am  apprehensive  lest  I  should  very  soon  be  re- 
minded of  my  duty.  As  to  your  opinion,  that  there  will  be 
less  faction  among  you  under  one  commander  than  under 
many,  be  assured  that,  if  you  choose  another,  you  will  not 
find  me  factious;  for  I  consider  that  he  who  in  war  quarrels 
with  his  commander,  quarrels  with  his  own  safety;  whereas, 
if  you  should  elect  me,  I  should  not  wonder  if  you  should  find 
people  show  resentment  against  both  you  and  myself." 

After  he  had  thus  spoken,  far  more  persons  than  before 
rose  up,  and  said  that  he  ought  to  take  upon  him  the  com- 
mand. Agasias  of  Stymphalus  said  that  it  would  be  ridiculous 
if  things  should  be  in  such  a  state,  since  the  Lacedaemonians 
might  then  be  enraged  even  if  a  party  met  to  sup  together 
did  not  choose  a  Lacedaemonian  as  president  of  their  ban- 
quet. "If  such  be  the  case,"  added  he,  "it  is  not  proper  even 
for  us,  it  would  seem,  to  be  captains,  because  we  are  Ar- 
cadians." Upon  this  the  assembly  showed  by  a  murmur  their 
opinion  that  Agasias  had  spoken  well. 

Xenophon,  seeing  that  there  was  need  of  something  addi- 
tional on  his  part,  came  forward  and  said,  "But,  my  fellow- 
soldiers,  that  you  may  be  fully  informed  on  this  subject, 

*  Alluding  to  the  consequences  of  tho  Peloponnesian  war,  by  which 
the  supreme  power  over  Greece  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  Lacedsemo- 
mans. 


XEXOPHON  83 

I  swear  to  you  by  all  the  gods  and  goddesses,  that  after  I 
learned  your  inclination,  I  sought  to  ascertain  by  sacrifice 
whether  it  would  be  better  for  you  to  confer  this  command 
upon  me,  and  for  me  to  undertake  it,  or  not ;  and  they  gave 
me  such  manifest  signs,  by  the  victims,  that  even  an  untaught 
person  6  would  have  understood  that  I  ought  to  decline  the 
command."  They  in  consequence  chose  Cheirisophus,  who, 
when  he  was  elected,  stood  forward  and  said,  "Be  assured 
of  this,  my  fellow-soldiers,  that  I  should  have  made  no 
factious  opposition,  if  you  had  chosen  another.  However," 
added  he,  "you  have  done  a  service  to  Xenophon  by  not 
electing  him,  as  Dexippus  has  recently  been  accusing  him 
to  Anaxibius,  as  far  as  he  could,  although  I  tried  as  much  as 
possible  to  silence  him.  Dexippus  also  said  that  he  thought 
Xenophon  would  rather  be  joined  in  command  with  Timasion, 
a  Dardanian,  over  the  army  of  Clearchus,  than  with  himself, 
a  Lacedaemonian.  But,"  he  continued,  "since  you  have 
chosen  me,  I  will  endeavor,  on  my  part,  to  do  you  all  the 
service  that  I  can.  Prepare  yourselves,  accordingly,  to  sail 
to-morrow,  if  it  be  weather  for  sailing.  Our  course  will  be 
for  Heraclea,  and  it  is  incumbent  on  you  all  to  do  your 
utmost  to  reach  it.  Of  other  matters  we  will  consider  when 
we  have  arrived  there." 

IX 

WEIGHING  anchor  from  hence  the  next  day,  they  sailed 
with  a  fair  wind  along  the  coast  for  two  days.  In  their 
course  they  saw  the  Beach  of  Jason,  where  the  Argo  is  said 
to  have  been  moored ;  and  the  mouths  of  certain  rivers,  first 
that  of  the  Thermodon,  then  that  of  the  Iris,  next  that  of  the 
Halys,  and  finally  that  of  the  Parthenius.  After  sailing  by 
the  last,  they  arrived  at  Heraclea,  a  Greek  city,  a  colony  of 
Megara,  situate  in  the  territory  of  the  Maryandyni.  They 
came  to  anchor  near  the  Acherusian  Peninsula,  where  Her- 
cules is  said  to  have  gone  down  to  bring  up  the  dog  Cerberus, 
and  where  they  now  show  marks  of  his  descent  to  the  depth 
of  more  than  two  stadia.  The  people  of  Heraclea  sent 
the  Greeks,  as  tokens  of  hospitality,  three  thousand  medimni 

•A  private  person;   a  person  who  was  not  a  professional  sacrificer  or 
augur. 


84  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

of  barley-meal,  and  two  thousand  ceramia  of  wine,  with 
twenty  oxen  and  a  hundred  sheep.  Here  a  river  named 
Lycus  runs  through  the  plain,  in  breadth  about  two  hundred 
feet. 

The  soldiers,  assembling  together,  began  to  deliberate, 
with  regard  to  the  rest  of  the  way,  whether  it  was  proper 
to  proceed  by  land  or  sea,  until  they  were  beyond  the  Euxine. 
Lycon,  an  Achaean,  rising  up,  said,  "I  wonder  at  the  generals, 
my  fellow-soldiers,  for  not  endeavoring  to  procure  us  money 
to  buy  provisions;  for  the  presents  received  will  not  furnish 
subsistence  to  the  army  for  three  days;  nor  is  there  any 
place  from  whence  we  can  get  provisions  as  we  proceed  on 
our  journey.  It  appears  to  me,  therefore,  that  we  ought  to 
ask  of  the  people  of  Ileraclea  not  less  than  three  thousand 
Cyzicene  staters."  Another  exclaimed,  "Not  less  than  ten 
thousand,"  and  proposed  that,  having  chosen  deputies,  we 
should  send  them  at  once  to  the  city,  while  we  were  sitting 
there,  and  hear  what  report  they  brought,  and  take  measures 
accordingly.  They  then  proposed,  as  deputies,  first  Chei- 
risophus,  because  he  was  general-in-chief,  and  others  then 
named  Xenophon ;  but  both  resolutely  refused ;  for  they 
concurred  in  opinion  that  they  ought  not  to  compel  a  Greek 
city,  and  one  in  friendship  with  them,  to  supply  them  with 
anything  that  the  inhabitants  did  not  offer  of  their  own 
accord.  As  they  showed  themselves  resolved,  therefore,  not 
to  go,  the  army  sent  Lycon  the  Achtean,  Callimachus  a 
Parrhasian,  and  Agasias  of  Stymphalus;  who,  going  to  the 
town,  informed  the  people  of  the  resolutions  just  passed.  It 
was  said,  too,  that  Lycon  even  threatened  them  with  violence, 
if  they  did  not  comply  with  these  demands.  The  Heracleans 
listened  to  them,  and  said  that  they  would  consider  of  the 
matter,  and  then  immediately  collected  their  property  out  of 
the  fields,  and  conveyed  the  provisions  exposed  for  sale 
into  the  city.  At  the  same  time  the  gates  were  shut,  and 
armed  men  appeared  upon  the  walls. 

In  consequence  the  authors  of  these  dissensions  accused 
the  generals  of  having  defeated  their  plan ;  and  the  Arcadians 
and  Achipans  began  to  hold  meetings  together,  Callimachus 
the  Parrhasian  and  Lycon  the  Achwan  being  mostly  at  their 
head.  The  remarks  among  them  were,  that  it  was  dis- 


XENOPHON  85 

graceful  that  one  Athenian,  who  had  brought  no  force  to  the 
army,  should  have  the  command  of  Peloponnesians  and  Lace- 
daemonians; that  they  had  the  labor,  and  others  the  profit, 
although  they  themselves  had  secured  the  general  safety ;  for 
that  those  who  had  accomplished  this  object  were  Arcadians 
and  Achaeans,  and  that  the  rest  of  the  army  was  compara- 
tively nothing  (and  in  reality  more  than  half  the  army  were 
Arcadians  and  Achaeans)  ;  and  therefore  these,  they  said,  if 
they  were  wise,  should  unite  together,  and,  choosing  leaders 
for  themselves,  should  proceed  on  their  way  separately,  and 
endeavor  to  secure  themselves  something  to  their  profit.  To 
this  proposal  assent  was  given ;  and  whatever  Arcadians  and 
Achaeans  were  with  Cheirisophus,  leaving  him  and  Xenophon, 
united  with  the  rest,  and  all  chose  ten  captains  of  their 
own ;  and  they  appointed  that  these  should  carry  into  execu- 
tion whatever  should  be  decided  by  the  vote  of  the  majority. 
The  command  of  Cheirisophus  over  the  whole  army  was  thus 
ended  on  the  sixth  or  seventh  day  after  he  had  been  elected. 
Xenophon  was  inclined  to  pursue  his  way  in  company 
with  them,  thinking  that  this  method  would  be  safer  than  for 
each  to  proceed  separately.  But  Neon  persuaded  him  to  go  by 
himself,  as  having  heard  from  Cheirisophus  that  Cleander  the 
governor  of  Byzantium  had  said  that  he  would  come  with 
some  galleys  to  the  harbor  of  Calpe ;  and  he  gave  Xenophon 
this  advice,  therefore,  in  order  that  no  one  else  might  take 
advantage  of  this  opportunity,  but  that  they  themselves  only, 
and  their  own  soldiers,  might  sail  on  board  these  galleys.  As 
for  Cheirisophus,  who  was  both  disheartened  at  what  had  oc- 
curred, and  who  from  that  time  conceived  a  disgust  at  the 
army,  he  allowed  Xenophon  to  act  as  he  thought  proper. 
Xenophon  was  also  inclined  to  detach  himself  from  the  army 
altogether,  and  to  sail  away;  but  as  he  was  sacrificing  to 
Hercules  the  Conductor,  and  consulting  him  whether  it  would 
be  better  or  more  advisable  to  march  in  company  with  such 
of  the  soldiers  as  remained,  or  to  take  leave  of  them,  the  god 
signified  by  the  victims  that  he  should  march  with  them.  The 
army  was  thus  divided  into  three  bodies;  the  Arcadians  and 
AcluTans,  to  the  number  of  more  than  four  thousand  five  hun- 
dred men,  all  heavy-armed ;  the  heavy-armed  with  Cheiri- 
sophus, in  number  fourteen  hundred,  with  seven  hundred 


86  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

peltasts,  the  Thracians  of  Clearchus ;  and  seventeen  hundred 
heavy-armed  men,  with  three  hundred  peltasts,  under  Xeno- 
phon,  who  was  the  only  one  that  had  any  cavalry,  a  body  of 
about  forty  horsemen. 

The  Arcadians,  having  procured  ships  from  the  people  of 
Ileraclea,  were  the  first  to  set  sail  with  the  view  of  getting 
as  much  booty  as  they  could  by  making  a  sudden  descent 
upon  the  Bithynians,  and  accordingly  disembarked  at  the 
harbor  of  Calpe,  somewhere  about  the  middle  of  Thrace. 
Cheirisophus,  proceeding  straight  from  the  city  of  Heraclea, 
marched  through  the  territory  belonging  to  it;  but  when  he 
entered  Thrace,  he  kept  along  near  the  sea,  for  he  was  then 
in  ill-health.  Xenophon,  having  obtained  vessels,  landed  on 
the  confines  of  Thrace  and  the  region  of  Heraclea,  and  pur- 
sued his  way  through  the  inland  parts. 


EACH  of  these  three  parties  fared  as  follows.  The  Arcadians, 
disembarking  by  night  at  the  port  of  Calpe,  marched  off  to 
attack  the  nearest  villages,  lying  about  thirty  stadia  from 
the  sea.  As  soon  as  it  was  light,  each  of  the  officers  led 
his  own  division  against  a  village ;  but  against  any  village 
that  appeared  larger  than  the  rest,  they  led  two  divisions 
together.  They  fixed  also  upon  a  hill  on  which  they  were 
all  to  re-assemble.  As  they  fell  upon  the  people  unexpectedly, 
they  seized  a  great  number  of  slaves  and  surrounded  several 
flocks  of  cattle. 

But  the  Thrac'ians,7  as  fast  as  they  escaped,  collected  them- 
selves into  a  body ;  and.  as  they  were  light  armed,  the  num- 
ber that  escaped,  even  from  the  very  hands  of  the  heavy- 
armed  men,  was  great.  As  soon  as  they  were  collected,  they 
proceeded,  in  the  first  place,  to  fall  upon  the  division  of  Smi- 
cres,  one  of  the  Arcadian  captains,  who  was  marching  away 
to  the  place  agreed  upon,  and  carrying  with  him  considerable 
booty.  For  a  while  the  Greeks  defended  themselves  as  they 
pursued  their  march,  but,  as  they  were  crossing  a  ravine, 
the  Thracians  put  them  to  the  rout,  and  killed  Smicres  and 
all  his  party.  Of  another  division  of  the  ten  captains,  too, 

T  The  Asiatic  or  Bitbynian  Thracians,  who  inhabited  the  villages  which 
the  Arcadians  had  attacked. 


XENOPHON  87 

that  of  Hegesander,  they  left  only  eight  men  alive,  Hegesander 
himself  being  one  of  those  that  escaped.  The  other  captains 
joined  him  at  the  appointed  spot,  some  with  difficulty,  and 
others  without  any.  The  Thracians,  however,  in  consequence 
of  having  met  with  this  success,  cheered  on  one  another, 
and  assembled  in  great  spirits  during  the  night.  At  day- 
break, numbers  of  horsemen  and  peltasts  ranged  themselves 
in  a  circle  round  the  hill  upon  which  the  Greeks  had  en- 
camped; and  as  more  came  flocking  to  them,  they  attacked 
the  heavy-armed  men  without  danger,  for  the  Greeks  had 
neither  archers,  nor  javelin-men,  nor  a  single  horseman,  while 
the  Thracians,  running  and  riding  up,  hurled  their  darts 
among  them,  and  when  the  Greeks  offered  to  attack  them, 
retreated  with  ease.  Some  attempted  one  part,  and  some 
another;  and  many  of  the  assailed  were  wounded,  but  none 
of  the  assailants.  The  Greeks  were  in  consequence  unable 
to  move  from  the  spot,  and  at  last  the  Thracians  cut  them 
off  even  from  water.  As  their  distress  was  great,  they  be- 
gan to  speak  of  terms  of  surrender;  and  other  points  were 
agreed  upon  between  them,  but  when  the  Greeks  demanded 
hostages,  the  Thracians  refused  to  give  them;  and  upon  this 
the  treaty  was  stopped.  Such  were  the  fortunes  of  the 
Arcadians. 

Cheirisophus,  meanwhile,  advancing  unmolested  along  the 
coast,  arrived  at  the  harbor  of  Calpe.  As  for  Xenophon, 
while  he  was  marching  through  the  middle  of  the  country, 
his  horsemen  riding  on  before  him,  fell  in  with  some  em- 
bassadors  who  were  on  their  journey  to  some  place.  As  they 
were  conducted  to  Xenophon,  he  inquired  of  them  whether 
they  had  anywhere  heard  of  another  Greek  army.  They 
gave  him,  in  reply,  an  account  of  all  that  had  occurred,  say- 
ing that  the  Greeks  were  then  besieged  upon  a  hill,  and  that 
the  whole  force  of  the  Thracians  was  collected  round  them, 
lie  therefore  had  these  men  strictly  guarded,  that  they  might 
act  as  guides  wherever  it  might  be  necessary,  and  then,  after 
stationing  scouts,  he  called  together  his  soldiers  and  ad- 
dressed them  thus: 

"Soldiers,  some  of  the  Arcadians  are  killed,  and  others 
are  besieged  upon  a  hill ;  and  I  think  that,  if  they  are  de- 
stroyed, there  will  be  no  hope  of  safety  for  us,  the  enemy 


88  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

being  so  numerous  and  so  daring.  It  seems  best  for  us, 
therefore,  to  march  to  their  relief  with  all  possible  speed,  that, 
if  they  still  survive,  we  may  join  with  them  in  their  strug- 
gle, and  not,  being  left  alone,  meet  danger  alone.  Let  us  for 
the  present,  then,  pitch  our  camp,  marching  on,  however,  un- 
til it  seems  time  to  sup,  and  while  we  are  on  the  march,  let 
Timasion,  with  the  horse,  ride  on  before,  but  keeping  us  still 
in  sight,  and  let  him  recounoiter  the  country  in  front,  that 
nothing  may  take  us  by  surprise."  lie  dispatched,  at  the 
same  time,  some  of  the  most  active  of  the  light-armed  men  to 
the  parts  on  either  flank,  and  to  the  hills,  that  if  they  saw  any- 
thing threatening  in  any  quarter,  they  might  give  notice  of  it. 
He  ordered  them  also  to  burn  whatever  combustible  matter 
they  met  with  ;  ' '  for, ' '  said  lie,  ' '  we  could  not  flee  from  hence 
to  any  place  of  refuge ;  since  it  is  a  long  way  to  go  back  to 
Heraclea,  and  a  long  way  to  go  over  to  Chrysopolis ;  and  the 
enemy  are  close  at  hand.  To  the  harbor  of  Calpe,  indeed, 
where  we  suppose  Cheirisophus  to  be,  if  he  is  safe,  the  dis- 
tance is  but  short;  but  even  there,  there  are  neither  vessels 
in  which  we  can  sail  from  the  place,  nor  subsistence,  if  we 
remain,  even  for  a  single  day.  Should  those  who  are  be- 
sieged, however,  be  left  to  perish,  it  will  be  less  advantageous 
for  us  to  face  danger  in  conjunction  with  the  troops  of  Chei- 
risophus only,  than  if  the  besieged  are  preserved,  to  unite  all 
our  forces,  and  struggle  for  our  safety  together.  But  we  must 
go  resolved  in  mind  that  we  have  now  either  to  die  gloriously, 
or  achieve  a  most  honorable  exploit  in  the  preservation  of 
so  many  Greeks.  Perhaps  some  divinity  orders  it  thus,  who 
wishes  to  humble  those  who  spoke  boastfully,  as  if  they 
were  superior  to  us  in  wisdom,  and  to  render  us,  who  com- 
mence all  our  proceedings  by  consulting  the  gods,  more  hon- 
ored than  they  are.  You  must  follow,  then,  your  leaders,  and 
pay  attention  to  them,  that  you  may  be  ready  to  execute 
what  they  order." 

Having  spoken  thus,  he  led  them  forward.  The  cavalry, 
scattering  themselves  about  as  far  as  was  safe,  spread  fire 
wherever  they  went,  while  the  peltasts,  marching  abreast  of 
them  along  the  heights,  burned  whatever  they  found  that 
was  combustible,  as  did  the  main  body  also,  if  they  met  with 
anything  left  unburned  by  the  others;  so  that  the  whole 


XENOPHON  89 

country  seemed  to  be  on  fire,  and  the  Greek  force  to  be  very 
numerous.  As  soon  as  it  was  time,  they  mounted  a  hill 
and  encamped,  when  they  caught  sight  of  the  enemy's  fires, 
which  were  distant  about  forty  stadia;  and  they  themselves 
then  made  as  many  fires  as  they  could.  But  as  soon  as 
they  had  supped,  orders  were  given  to  put  out  all  the  fires; 
and,  having  appointed  sentinels,  they  went  to  sleep  for  the 
night.  At  dawn  of  day,  after  praying  to  the  gods,  and  ar- 
ranging themselves  for  battle,  they  continued  their  march 
with  as  much  haste  as  they  could.  Timasion  and  the  cavalry, 
taking  the  guides  with  them,  and  riding  on  before  the  rest, 
found  themselves,  before  they  were  aware,  upon  the  hill 
where  the  Greeks  had  been  besieged,  but  saw  no  troops,  either 
of  friends  or  enemies,  but  only  some  old  men  and  women,  and 
a  few  sheep  and  oxen  that  had  been  left  behind;  and  this 
state  of  things  they  reported  to  Xenophon  and  the  army.  At 
first  they  wondered  what  could  have  happened ;  but  at  length 
they  learned  from  the  people  who  were  left  that  the  Thracians 
had  gone  off  at  the  close  of  the  evening  and  the  Greeks  in  the 
morning,  but  whither  they  did  not  know. 

Xenophon  and  his  party,  on  hearing  this  account,  packed 
up  their  baggage,  after  they  had  breakfasted,  and  pursued 
their  journey,  wishing,  as  soon  as  possible,  to  join  the  rest  of 
the  Greeks  at  the  harbor  of  Calpe.  As  they  proceeded,  they 
perceived  the  track  of  the  Arcadians  and  Achaeans  on  the 
way  to  Calpe;  and  when  they  met,  they  were  pleased  to 
see  one  another,  and  embraced  like  brothers.  The  Arcadians 
then  asked  Xenophon 's  men  why  they  had  put  out  their 
fires,  ' '  for  we, ' '  said  they,  ' '  thought  at  first,  when  we  saw  no 
more  fires,  that  you  were  coming  to  attack  the  enemy  in  the 
night;  (and  the  enemy  themselves,  as  they  appeared  to  us, 
went  off  under  this  apprehension,  for  they  disappeared  about 
that  time)  ;  but  as  you  did  not  come,  and  the  time  passed  by, 
we  concluded  that  you,  hearing  of  our  situation,  had  been 
seized  with  alarm,  and  had  retreated  to  the  sea-coast ;  and  we 
determined  not  to  be  far  behind  you.  Accordingly  we  also 
inarched  in  this  direction." 


90  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


XI 

WHAT  the  Greeks  did  in  their  march  up  the  country  with 
Cyrus,  until  the  battle  was  fought,  what  they  experienced 
in  their  retreat,  after  Cyrus  was  dead,  till  they  reached  the 
Euxine  sea,  and  how  they  fared,  in  their  progress  by  sea 
and  laud,  from  the  time  that  they  arrived  at  the  Euxine  until 
they  got  beyond  the  mouth  of  it  to  Chrysopolis  in  Asia,  has 
been  related  in  the  preceding  part  of  the  narrative. 

Pharnabazus,  fearing  that  the  army  of  the  Greeks  might 
make  an  irruption  into  his  province,  sent  to  Anaxibius  the 
Spartan  admiral,  who  was  at  Byzantium,  and  begged  him  to 
transport  the  army  out  of  Asia,  promising  to  do  for  him  in  re- 
turn whatever  he  might  require  of  him.  Anaxibius,  accord- 
ingly, sent  for  the  generals  and  captains  of  the  troops  to 
Byzantium,  engaging  that  if  they  came  over  to  him,  pay 
should  be  given  to  the  men.  The  rest  of  the  officers  said  that 
they  would  give  him  an  answer  after  they  had  considered  of 
the  matter ;  but  Xenophon  told  him  that  he  was  going  to  leave 
the  army,  and  wanted  to  sail  away.  Anaxibius,  however,  re- 
quested him  to  come  across  with  the  rest,  and  then  to  take  his 
departure.  Xenophon  therefore  said  that  he  would  do  so. 

In  the  meantime  Seuthes  the  Thracian  sent  Medosades 
to  Xenophon,  requesting  that  general  to  join  with  him  in 
using  his  efforts  that  the  army  might  cross  over,  and  saying 
that  he  should  have  no  cause  to  repent  of  assisting'him  in 
that  object.  Xenophon  replied,  "The  army  will  doubtless 
cross  over;  let  him  give  nothing  to  me  therefore,  or  to  any 
one  else,  on  that  account.  When  it  has  crossed,  I  shall  quit 
it;  so  let  him  address  himself  to  those  who  stay,  and  who  may 
seem  able  to  serve  him  in  such  a  manner  as  may  appear 
likely  to  be  successful." 

Soon  after  the  whole  army  of  the  Greeks  crossed  over  to 
Byzantium.  Anaxibius  however  gave  them  no  pay,  but  made 
proclamation  that  the  soldiers  should  take  their  arms  and 
baggage,  and  go  out  of  the  city,  signifying  that  he  intended 
at  once  to  send  them  away  home,  and  to  take  their  number. 
The  soldiers  were  in  consequence  greatly  troubled,  because 
they  had  no  money  to  get  provisions  for  their  journey,  and 
packed  up  their  baggage  with  reluctance. 


XENOPHON  91 

Xenophon,  who  had  become  a  guest-friend  to  Oleander 
the  governor,  went  to  take  leave  of  him,  with  the  intention  of 
sailing  away  immediately.  But  Oleander  said  to  him:  "By 
no  means  do  so,  for,  if  you  do,  you  will  incur  blame,  since 
some  people,  indeed,  already  accuse  you  as  the  cause  that 
the  army  proceeds  out  so  slowly."  Xenophon  replied,  "I 
am  not  the  cause  of  this,  but  the  soldiers,  being  in  want  of 
provisions,  are  for  that  reason,  of  themselves,  reluctant  to 
go  out."  "However  I  advise  you,"  rejoinded  Oleander,  "to 
go  out  with  them,  as  if  you  intended  to  accompany  them, 
and  when  the  army  is  clear  of  the  city,  then  to  quit  it." 
"We  will  then  go  to  Anaxibius,"  said  Xenophon,  "and 
further  the  proceedings."  They  accordingly  went,  and  told 
him  that  such  was  their  intention.  He  recommended  that 
they  should  act  in  conformity  with  what  they  said,  and  that 
the  troops  should  go  out  as  soon  as  possible  with  their  baggage 
packed  up;  desiring  them  to  give  notice,  at  the  same  time, 
that  whoever  should  not  be  present  at  the  review  and  num- 
bering of  the  army,  would  have  himself  to  blame.  The  gen- 
erals then  went  out  first,  and  the  rest  of  the  army  fol- 
lowed them. 

They  were  now  all  out  except  a  few,  and  Eteonicus  was 
standing  by  the  gates,  ready  to  shut  them,  and  thrust  in  the 
bar,  as  soon  as  they  were  all  outside,  when  Anaxibius,  sum- 
moning the  generals  and  captains,  said,  "You  may  take 
provisions  from  the  Thracian  villages;  for  there  is  plenty  of 
barley  and  wheat,  and  other  necessaries,  in  them ;  and  when 
you  have  supplied  yourselves,  proceed  to  the  Chersonesus, 
and  there  Cyniscus  will  give  you  pay."  Some  of  the  soldiers 
that  overheard  this,  or  some  one  of  the  captains,  communi- 
cated it  to  the  army.  The  generals,  meanwhile,  inquired 
about  Seuthes,  whether  he  would  prove  hostile  or  friendly, 
and  whether  they  must  march  over  the  Sacred  Mountain, 
or  round  about  through  the  middle  of  Thrace.  But  while 
they  were  talking  of  these  matters,  the  soldiers,  snatching 
up  their  arms,  ran  in  haste  to  the  gates,  with  a  design  to 
make  their  way  back  within  the  walls.  Eteonicus,  however, 
and  those  about  him,  when  they  saw  the  heavy-armed  men 
running  toward  them,  shut  the  gates,  and  thrust  in  the  bar. 
The  soldiers  then  knocked  at  the  gates,  and  said  that  they 


92  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

were  treated  most  unjustly,  in  being  shut  out  as  a  prey  to 
the  enemy,  and  declared  that  they  would  split  the  gates 
asunder,  if  the  people  did  not  open  them  of  their  own  ac- 
cord. Some  ran  off  to  the  sea,  and  got  over  into  the  city 
by  the  pier  of  the  wall ;  while  others  of  them,  who  happened 
to  be  still  in  the  town,  when  they  perceived  what  was  pass- 
ing at  the  gates,  cut  the  bars  in  twain  with  their  axes,  and 
set  the  gates  wide  open.  They  then  all  rushed  in. 

Xenophon,  observing  what  was  going  on,  and  fearing  lest 
the  army  should  fall  to  plundering,  and  irreparable  mis- 
chief be  done  not  only  to  the  city,  but  to  himself  and  the 
men,  ran  and  got  within  the  gates  along  with  the  crowd.  The 
people  of  Byzantium,  at  the  same  time,  when  they  saw  the 
army  entering  by  force,  fled  from  the  market-place,  some 
to  the  ships,  and  some  to  their  houses,  while  others,  who  hap- 
pened to  be  within  doors,  ran  out ;  some  hauled  down  the 
galleys  into  the  water,  that  they  might  save  themselves  in 
them ;  and  all  believed  themselves  ruined,  regarding  the  city  as 
captured.  Eteonicus  fled  to  the  citadel.  Anaxibius,  running 
down  to  the  sea,  sailed  round  to  the  same  place  in  a  fish- 
ing-boat, and  immediately  sent  for  men  from  the  garrison  at 
Chalcedon ;  for  those  in  the  citadel  did  not  appear  sufficient 
to  repel  the  Greeks. 

The  soldiers,  as  soon  as  they  saw  Xenophon,  ran  up  to 
him  in  great  numbers,  and  cried,  "You  have  now  an  oppor- 
tunity, O  Xenophon,  to  become  a  great  man.  You  are  in 
possession  of  a  city,  you  have  galleys,  you  have  money,  you 
have  this  large  number  of  men.  Now,  therefore,  if  you  are 
inclined,  you  may  benefit  us,  and  we  may  make  you  a  distin- 
guished man."  Xenophon  replied,  "You  say  well,  and  I  will 
act  accordingly;  but  if  you  aim  at  this  object,  range  your- 
selves under  arms  as  quickly  as  possible,"  for  he  wished  to 
quiet  them,  and  not  only  gave  these  orders  himself,  but  desired 
the  other  officers  also  to  command  the  men  to  range  them- 
selves under  arms.  As  the  men,  too,  began  to  march  them- 
selves, the  heavy-armed  troops  soon  formed  eight  deep,  and 
the  peltasts  ran  to  take  their  station  on  each  wing.  The 
ground,  which  was  called  the  Thracian  Area,  was  excellent  for 
the  arrangement  of  troops,  being  clear  of  houses,  and  level. 
When  the  arms  were  in  their  places,  and  the  men  somewhat 


XENOPHON  93 

trauquilized,  Xenophon  called  the  soldiers  round  him,  and 
spoke  as  follows: 

"That  you  are  angry,  soldiers,  and  think  you  have  been 
treated  strangely  in  being  deceived,  I  am  not  at  all  surprised; 
but  if  we  gratify  our  resentment,  and  not  only  take  revenge 
on  the  Lacedaemonians,  who  are  here,  for  their  imposition, 
but  plunder  the  city  which  is  not  at  all  to  blame,  consider 
what  will  be  the  consequences;  we  shall  be  the  declared 
enemies  both  of  the  Lacedaemonians  and  their  allies.  What 
will  be  the  nature  of  a  war  with  them,  we  may  conjecture,  as 
we  have  seen  and  remember  what  has  recently  occurred.  We 
the  Athenians  entered  upon  the  contest  with  the  Lacedae- 
monians and  their  allies,  with  not  less  than  three  hundred  gal- 
leys, some  at  sea  and  some  in  the  docks,  with  a  great  sum  of 
money  in  the  Acropolis,  and  with  a  yearly  revenue  from  our 
customs  at  home  and  our  territory  abroad,  of  not  less  than  a 
thousand  talents ;  but  though  we  were  masters  of  all  the  is- 
lands, were  possessed  of  many  cities  in  Asia,  and  many  others 
in  Europe,  and  of  this  very  Byzantium  where  we  now  are, 
yet  we  were  reduced  in  the  war  to  such  a  condition  as  you  all 
know.  And  what  may  we  now  expect  to  be  our  fate,  when 
the  Lacedaemonians  and  Acha^ans  are  in  alliance;  when  the 
Athenians,  and  those  who  were  then  allied  with  them,  have 
become  an  accession  to  the  Spartan  power ;  when  Tissaphernes, 
and  all  the  other  Barbarians  on  the  sea-coast,  are  our  enemies, 
and  the  king  of  Persia  himself  our  greatest  enemy,  whom  we 
went  to  despoil  of  his  throne,  and,  if  we  could,  to  deprive  of 
life?  When  all  these  opponents  are  united  against  us,  is  there 
anybody  so  senseless  as  to  think  that  we  could  get  the  superi- 
ority? Let  us  not,  in  the  name  of  the  gods,  act  like  mad- 
men, and  perish  with  disgrace,  by  becoming  enemies  to  our 
country,  and  to  our  friends  and  relations!  For  our  connec- 
tions are  all  in  the  cities  that  will  make  war  upon  us,  and 
that  will  make  war  justly  indeed,  if,  when  we  declined  to 
possess  ourselves  of  any  Barbarian  city,  though  we  were 
superior  in  force,  we  should  plunder  the  first  Greek  city  at 
which  we  have  arrived.  For  my  own  part,  I  pray  that  be- 
fore I  see  such  an  atrocity  committed  by  you,  I  may  be  buried 
ten  thousand  fathoms  under  ground.  I  advise  you,  as  you 
are  Greeks,  to  endeavor  to  obtain  justice  by  submitting  to 


94-  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

those  who  are  masters  of  the  Greeks.  Should  you  be  unable 
to  obtain  it,  however,  we  ought  not,  though  wronged,  to  de- 
prive ourselves  of  all  hope  of  returning  to  Greece.  It  appears 
to  me,  therefore,  that  we  should  now  send  deputies  to  Anaxi- 
bius,  with  this  message:  'We  came  into  the  city  with  no 
design  to  commit  violence,  but,  if  we  could,  to  obtain  some 
services  from  you ;  but,  if  we  obtain  none,  we  intend  to  show 
that  we  shall  go  out  of  it,  not  because  we  have  been  deceived, 
but  because  we  are  willing  to  obey  you.'  ' 

This  proposal  met  with  approbation ;  and  they  dispatched 
Hieronymus  the  Elean,  Eurylochus  the  Arcadian,  and  Phile- 
sius  the  Achaean,  to  carry  the  message.  They  accordingly  pro- 
ceeded to  deliver  it. 

But  while  the  soldiers  were  still  seated,  Cceratades,8  a 
Theban,  came  up  to  them;  a  man  who  was  going  about  the 
country,  not  banished  from  Greece,  but  wanting  to  be  a 
general,  and  offering  his  services  wherever  any  city  or  people 
required  a  leader;  and,  as  he  came  forward,  he  said  that  he 
was  prepared  to  conduct  them  to  that  part  of  Thrace  called 
the  Delta,  where  they  would  find  plenty  of  good  things,  and 
that,  till  they  should  arrive  there,  he  would  supply  them  with 
meat  and  drink  in  abundance.  The  soldiers  listened  to  this 
offer,  and  heard,  at  the  same  time,  the  reply  brought  from 
Anaxibius,  for  he  had  sent  an  answer  that  "if  they  complied 
with  his  wishes,  they  should  have  no  cause  to  repent ;  and  that 
he  would  report  their  conduct  to  the  authorities  at  Sparta, 
and  would  contrive  to  do  for  them  whatever  service  he  could." 
The  soldiers,  in  consequence,  took  Cceratades  as  their  leader, 
and  went  out  of  the  city,  Cceratades  engaging  to  come  to  the 
army  next  day  with  victims  for  sacrifice,  an  augur,  and  meat 
and  drink  for  the  troops.  As  soon  as  they  were  gone  out, 
Anaxibius  caused  the  gates  to  be  shut,  and  proclamation 
made,  that  whoever  of  the  soldiers  should  be  found  within, 
should  be  sold  as  a  slave. 

Xext  day  Cceratades  came  with  the  victims  and  the  augur; 
and  twenty  men  followed  him  carrying  barley-meal,  and 
other  twenty  carrying  wine ;  three  also  with  as  large  a  load 

*  Tie  ha<l  been  a  commander  of  the  Boeotians  toward  the  end  of  the 
Peloponnesian  war,  and,  at  the  surrender  of  Byzantium,  fell  into  the 
hands  of  the  Athenians,  by  whom  he  was  carried  prisoner  to  Athens, 
but  contrived  to  escape. 


XENOPHON  9r> 

as  they  could  bear  of  olives;  one  with  as  much  as  he  could 
carry  of  garlic,  and  another  of  onions.  Having  ordered  these 
things  to  be  laid  down,  as  if  for  distribution,  he  proceeded  to 
offer  sacrifice. 

Xenophon,  meanwhile,  having  sent  for  Oleander,  urged 
him  to  obtain  permission  for  him  to  enter  the  walls,  and  to 
sail  away  from  Byzantium.  When  Oleander  arrived,  he  said, 
"I  am  come,  after  having  obtained  the  permission  with  ex- 
treme difficulty ;  for  Anaxibius  says  that  it  is  not  proper  for 
the  soldiers  to  be  close  to  the  walls,  and  Xenophon  within; 
and  that  the  Byzantines  are  split  into  factions,  and  at  enmity 
one  with  another;  yet  he  has  desired  you,"  he  added,  "to 
enter,  if  you  intend  to  sail  with  him."  Xenophon  accord- 
ingly took  leave  of  the  soldiers,  and  went  into  the  city 
with  Oleander. 

Coeratades,  the  first  day,  had  no  favorable  omens  from  the 
sacrifice,  and  distributed  nothing  among  the  troops.  The 
next  day  the  victims  were  placed  at  the  altar,  and  Coeratades 
took  his  station  with  a  chaplet  on  his  head,  as  if  intending  to 
offer  sacrifice;  when  Timasion  the  Dardanian,  Neon  the 
Asinaean,  and  Cleanor  the  Orchomenian,  came  forward  and 
told  Coeratades  not  to  sacrifice,  as  he  should  not  lead  the 
army,  unless  he  supplied  it  with  provisions.  He  then  ordered 
a  distribution  to  be  made.  But  as  his  supply  fell  far  short 
of  one  day's  subsistence  for  each  of  the  soldiers,  he  went  off, 
taking  with  him  the  victims,  and  renouncing  the  general- 
ship. 

XII 

FROM  hence  they  sailed  across  to  Lampsacus,  when  Euclides 
the  augur,  a  native  of  Phlius,  the  son  of  Cleagoras,  who  wrote 
THE  DREAMS  IN  THE  LYCEUM,  came  to  meet  Xenophon.  He 
congratulated  Xenophon  on  having  returned  safe,  and  asked 
him  how  much  gold  he  had.  Xenophon  assured  him,  with 
an  oath,  that  he  should  not  have  enough  for  his  expenses 
in  traveling  home,  unless  he  sold  his  horse,  and  what  he  had 
about  him.  Euclides  did  not  believe  him.  But  after  the  peo- 
ple of  Lampsacus  had  sent  presents  to  Xenophon,  and  Xeno- 
phon was  proceeding  to  sacrifice  to  Apollo,  he  made  Euclides 
stand  beside  him  at  the  time,  who,  on  inspecting  the  victims, 


96  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

said  that  he  was  now  convinced  he  had  no  money.  "But  I 
observe,"  added  he,  "that  even  if  money  should  ever  be 
likely  to  come  to  you,  there  will  be  some  obstacle,  and,  if 
no  other,  that  you  will  be  an  obstacle  to  yourself."  Xeno- 
phon  assented  to  the  justice  of  the  observation.  "Jupiter 
Meilichius,  however,'''  said  Euclides,  "is  an  obstacle  in  your 
way;"  and  then  asked  whether  he  had  ever  sacrificed  to  that 
god,  "as  I  was  accustomed,"  continued  he,  "to  sacrifice  and 
offer  holocausts  for  you  at  home."  Xenophon  replied,  that 
since  he  had  left  home  he  had  not  sacrificed  to  that  deity. 
Euclides  then  advised  him  to  sacrifice  as  he  had  been  used  to 
do,  and  said  that  it  would  be  for  his  advantage.  Next  day, 
Xenophon,  going  on  to  Ophrynium,  offered  a  sacrifice,  burn- 
ing whole  hogs  after  the  custom  of  his  country,  and  found 
the  omens  favorable. 

The  same  day  Biton  and  Euclides  came  to  bring  pay  for 
the  army.  These  men  were  hospitably  entertained  by  Xeno- 
phon, and  having  repurchased  his  horse,  which  he  had  sold 
at  Lampsacus  for  fifty  darics  (as  they  suspected  that  he 
had  parted  with  it  from  necessity,  for  they  had  heard  that  he 
was  fond  of  the  horse),  they  restored  it  to  him,  and  would 
not  receive  from  him  the  price  of  it. 

Hence  they  advanced  through  Troas,  and,  passing  over  Ida, 
came  first  to  Antandrus;  then,  proceeding  along  by  the  sea, 
they  arrived  at  the  plain  of  Thebe  in  Lydia.  Marching 
from  hence  through  Atramyttium  and  Certorium,  by  Atar- 
neus,  to  the  plain  of  the  Caicus,  they  reached  Pergamus  in 
Mysia. 

Here  Xenophon  was  hospitably  received  by  Hellas  the  wife 
of  Gongylus  of  Eretria,  and  mother  of  Gorgion  and  Gongylus. 
She  told  him  that  Asidates,  a  Persian,  resided  in  the  plain, 
and  said  that  if  he  would  attack  him  in  the  night  with  three 
hundred  men,  he  might  take  him,  with  his  wife  and  children, 
and  his  wealth,  wrhich  was  considerable.  To  guide  him  in 
the  enterprise  she  sent  her  own  cousin,  and  a  man  named 
Daphnagoras,  whom  she  greatly  esteemed ;  and  Xenophon, 
having  these  with  him,  offered  sacrifice.  Basias,  an  augur  from 
Elis,  who  was  present,  said  that  the  omens  were  extremely 
favorable,  and  that  the  man  might  easily  be  captured.  After 
supper,  accordingly,  he  set  out,  taking  with  him  such  of  the 


XENOPHON  97 

captains  as  were  most  attached  to  him,  and  had  constantly 
been  his  friends,  in  order  that  he  might  do  them  a  service. 
Others  also  came  to  join  the  party,  forcing  themselves  upon 
him,  to  the  number  of  six  hundred;  but  the  captains  sent 
them  back,  that  they  might  not  have  to  give  them  any  portion 
of  the  booty,  which  they  regarded  as  ready  to  their  hands. 

When  they  came  to  the  place,  about  midnight,  the  slaves 
that  were  about  the  castle,  and  the  greater  part  of  the  cattle, 
escaped  them,  as  they  neglected  these  in  order  that  they  might 
capture  Asidates  himself  and  his  riches.  But  as  they  were 
unable  to  take  the  building  by  assault  (for  it  was  high  and 
large,  and  had  battlements,  and  many  brave  men  to  de- 
fend it),  they  proceeded  to  dig  a  passage  into  it.  The  wall 
was  eight  bricks  of  earth  thick;  but  a  breach  was  made  into 
it  by  day-break ;  and  the  moment  an  opening  appeared,  some 
one  from  within  pierced  the  thigh  of  the  man  that  was 
nearest  him  through  with  an  ox-spit ;  and  afterwards,  by 
shooting  showers  of  arrows,  they  rendered  it  unsafe  even  to 
approach.  As  they  uttered  loud  cries,  too,  and  made  signals 
with  torches,  Itabelius,  with  his  force,  came  to  their  as- 
sistance, as  well  as  some  Assyrian  heavy-armed  men,  and 
about  eighty  Hyrcanian  cavalry,  who  were  in  the  king's  pay, 
from  Comania ;  and  other  troops,  lightly  armed,  to  the  num- 
ber of  eight  hundred,  with  cavalry,  some  from  Parthenium, 
and  others  from  Apollonia  and  the  neighboring  parts. 

It  was  now  time  for  the  Greeks  to  consider  how  they 
should  retreat ;  and,  taking  what  oxen  and  sheep  were  at  hand, 
they  drove  them  off,  placing  them  with  the  slaves,  within  a 
hollow  square,  not  so  much  because  they  were  anxious  about 
the  booty,  but  lest,  if  they  went  off  and  left  it,  their  retreat 
might  appear  like  a  flight,  and  the  enemy  might  thus  be  ren- 
dered bolder,  and  their  own  men  more  dispirited;  whereas 
they  now  retired  as  if  resolved  to  defend  their  capture.  But 
when  Gongylus  observed  that  the  Greeks  were  but  few,  and 
those  who  hung  upon  their  rear  were  numerous,  he  sallied 
forth  himself,  against  the  will  of  his  mother,  at  the  head  of 
his  own  force,  wishing  to  take  a  share  in  the  action;  Procles 
also,  and  Teuthranias,  a  descendant  of  Damaratus,  came  to 
his  support  from  Halisarne.  Xenophon  and  his  party,  as  they 
were  sorely  harassed  by  the  enemy 's  arrows  and  slings,  and  as 
A.  v.  1—7 


98  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

they  marched  in  a  circle  to  hold  their  shields  as  a  defense 
against  the  missiles,  got  with  great  difficulty  across  the  river 
Caicus,  nearly  half  of  them  being  wounded.  On  this  occasion 
Agasias  the  Stymphalian,  one  of  the  captains,  was  wounded 
after  making  head  the  whole  time  against  the  enemy.  But 
they  at  last  came  off  safe,  with  about  two  hundred  slaves, 
and  cattle  enough  for  sacrifice. 

On  the  following  day  Xenophon  offered  sacrifice,  and  led 
out  his  whole  force  in  the  night,  with  a  design  to  go  as  far  as 
possible  into  Lydia,  in  order  that  the  Persian  might  not  be  in 
fear  from  his  proximity,  but  be  thrown  off  his  guard.  But 
Asidates,  hearing  that  Xenophon  had  again  sacrificed  with  a 
view  to  an  attack  upon  him,  and  that  he  wrould  return  with  all 
his  strength,  went  out  to  encamp  in  some  villages  lying  close 
under  the  little  town  of  Parthenium.  Here  Xenophon  and 
his  troop  came  round  upon  him,  and  captured  himself,  his 
wife  and  children,  his  horses,  and  all  his  property ;  and  thus 
the  omens  of  the  first  sacrifice  were  verified. 

They  then  marched  back  to  Pergamus;  and  here  Xeno- 
phon had  no  cause  to  complain  of  the  god ;  for  the  Lacedaemo- 
nians, the  captains,  the  rest  of  the  generals,  and  the  soldiers, 
all  agreed  that  he  should  receive  select  portions  of  the  spoil, 
consisting  of  horses,  oxen,  and  other  things;  so  that  he  was 
now  able  even  to  serve  a  friend. 

Soon  after,  Thibron  arrived  and  took  charge  of  the  army, 
and,  uniting  it  with  the  rest  of  the  Greek  force,  proceeded  to 
make  war  upon  Tissaphernes  and  Pharnabazus. 

The  governors  of  the  king's  country,  as  much  of  it  as 
we  went  through,  were  these :  of  Lydia,  Artemas ;  of  Phrygia, 
Artacamas;  of  Lycaonia  and  Cappadocia,  Mithridates ;  of 
Cilicia,  Syennesis;  of  Phoenicia  and  Arabia,  Dernes;  of  Syria 
and  Assyria,  Belesys;  of  Babylon,  Rhoparas;  of  Media, 
Arbacas;  of  the  Phasiani  and  Hesperitae,  Tiribazus  (the  Car- 
duchi,  the  Chalybes,  the  Chaldasans,  the  Macrones,  the  Col- 
chians,  the  Mossynoeci,  the  Ccptae,  and  the  Tibareni,  were 
independent  nations)  ;  of  Paphlagonia,  Corylas;  of  the 
Bithynians,  Pharnabazus;  and  of  the  Thracians  in  Europe, 
Seuthes. 

The  computation  of  the  whole  journey,  the  ascent  and 
descent,  was  two  hundred  and  fifteen  days'  march,  one  thou- 


XENOPHON  99 

sand  one  hundred  and  fifty-five  parasangs,  thirty-four  thou- 
sand six  hundred  and  fifty  stadia.  The  length  of  time  oc- 
cupied in  the  ascent  and  descent  was  one  year  and  three 
months. 


END  OF  THE       KATABASIS 


JULIUS  CJESAR 


r-rrr.r 


JULIUS 

THE    FOREMOST    MAN    OF    THE    ROMAN    WORLD 

100-44  B.  C. 
(INTRODUCTORY  NOTE) 

The  writings  of  Julius  Caesar  have  been  so  much  referred  to  by  later 
writers  of  autobiography,  that  they  may  almost  be  said  to  stand  as  the 
basis  and  foundation  of  literary  self-study.  This  rank  has  been  assigned 
to  them  by  many  critics;  and  so  many  autobiographical  writers,  especially 
military  ones,  have  named  Caesar's  works  as  having  inspired  them  to 
similar  effort  that  a  series  like  the  present  can  scarcely  pass  Caesar  by. 
Yet  there  is  little  that  is  genuinely  autobiographical  in  his  writings. 
He  describes  campaigns  and  countries  in  such  a  coldly  impersonal  light, 
referring  always  to  himself  as  ' '  Csesar, ' '  that  one  gets  hardly  a  single 
glimpse  at  the  man  behind  the  mask. 

This  is  particularly  true  in  his  ' '  Commentaries  on  the  Gallic  Wars. ' ' 
In  his  other  book  of  commentaries,  the  "Civil  War,"  he  speaks  with 
more  warmth  of  personal  feeling  and  more  directness.  The  ' '  Civil  War ' ' 
has  therefore  been  selected  for  presentation  here.  It  is  rather  fragmen- 
tary, the  surviving  portion  breaking  abruptly  into  the  midst  of  Csesar 's 
struggle  with  Pompey.  Pompey  had  been  master  of  the  Koman  world 
before  Caesar;  and  as  the  latter 's  military  strength  and  political  fame 
grew  with  the  conquest  of  Gaul,  Pompey  became  jealous  and  suspicious. 
He  endeavored  to  break  Caesar's  power,  and  finally  compelled  the  Roman 
Senate  to  command  Caesar  to  surrender  his  devoted  Gallic  army.  This 
would  have  left  Csesar  helpless  in  face  of  Pompey 's  army.  Caesar  urged 
that  both  armies  should  be  dismissed,  or  else  that  he  and  his  rival  should 
meet  personally  and  come  to  some  agreement  of  amity.  The  Tribunes 
or  people's  representatives  in  Rome  upheld  Csesar  in  this;  but  Pompey 
persisted  in  using  his  influence  within  the  Roman  Senate  so  as  to  crush 
his  rival.  Caesar  was  declared  by  senatorial  decree  to  be  an  enemy  of 
the  republic.  What  Csesar,  the  strongest,  keenest  man  in  all  the  Roman 
world,  then  resolved  upon  and  did,  here  follows  in  his  own  words. 


101 


102  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

OESAR'S  "COMMENTARIES  ON  THE  CIVIL  WAR" 

WHEN  Caesar  heard  of  the  actions  of  his  enemies,  he  harangued 
his  soldiers;  he  reminded  them  "of  the  wrongs  done  at  all 
times  by  his  enemies,  and  complained  that  Pompey  had  been 
alienated  from  him  and  led  astray  by  them  through  envy 
and  a  malicious  opposition  to  his  glory,  though  he  had  always 
favored  and  promoted  Pompey 's  honor  and  dignity.  He  com- 
plained that  an  innovation  had  been  introduced  into  the  re- 
public, that  the  intercession  of  the  tribunes,  which  had  been 
restored  a  few  years  before  by  Sylla,  was  branded  as  a  crime, 
and  suppressed  by  force  of  arms ;  that  Sylla,  who  had  stripped 
the  tribunes  of  every  other  power,  had,  nevertheless,  left  the 
privilege  of  intercession  unrestrained ;  that  Pompey,  who 
pretended  to  restore  what  they  had  lost,  had  taken  away  the 
privileges  which  they  formerly  had ;  that  whenever  the  senate 
decreed,  'that  the  magistrates  .should  take  care  that  the  re- 
public sustained  no  injury'  (by  which  words  and  decree  the 
Roman  people  were  obliged  to  repair  to  arms),  it  was  only 
when  pernicious  laws  were  proposed ;  when  the  tribunes  at- 
tempted violent  measures;  when  the  people  seceded,  and  pos- 
sessed themselves  of  the  temples  and  eminences  of  the  city; 
(and  these  instances  of  former  times,  he  showed  them  were 
expiated  by  the  fate  of  Saturninus  and  the  Gracchi)  :  that 
nothing  of  this  kind  was  attempted  now,  nor  even  thought 
of:  that  no  law  was  promulgated,  no  intrigue  with  the 
people  going  forward,  no  secession  made;  he  exhorted  them 
to  defend  from  the  malice  of  his  enemies  the  reputation  and 
honor  of  that  general  under  whose  command  they  had  for 
nine  years  most  successfully  supported  the  state ;  fought 
many  successful  battles,  and  subdued  all  Gaul  and  Ger- 
many." The  soldiers  of  the  thirteenth  legion,  which  was 
present  (for  in  the  beginning  of  the  disturbances  he  had 
called  it  out,  his  other  legions  not  having  yet  arrived),  all 
cry  out  that  they  are  ready  to  defend  their  general,  and  the 
tribunes  of  the  commons,  from  all  injuries. 

Having  made  himself  acquainted  with  the  disposition  of 
his  soldiers,  Caesar  set  off  with  that  legion  to  Ariminum,  and 
there  met  the  tribunes,  who  had  fled  to  him  for  protection; 
he  called  his  other  legions  from  winter  quarters,  and  ordered 


JULIUS  C^SAR  103 

them  to  follow  him.  Thither  came  Lucius  Caesar,  a  young 
man,  whose  father  was  a  lieutenant-general  under  Csesar. 
He,  after  concluding  the  rest  of  his  speech,  and  stating  for 
what  purpose  he  had  come,  told  Caesar  that  he  had  commands 
of  a  private  nature  for  him  from  Pompey,  that  Pompey 
wished  to  clear  himself  to  Caesar,  lest  he  should  impute  those 
actions  which  he  did  for  the  republic,  to  a  design  of  affronting 
him;  that  he  had  ever  preferred  the  interest  of  the  state  to 
his  own  private  connections;  that  Caesar,  too,  for  his  own 
honor,  ought  to  sacrifice  his  desires  and  resentment  to  the 
public  good,  and  not  vent  his  anger  so  violently  against  his 
enemies,  lest  in  his  hope  of  injuring  them,  he  should  injure 
the  republic.  He  spoke  a  few  words  to  the  same  purport 
from  himself,  in  addition  to  Pompey 's  apology.  Roscius,  the 
praetor,  conferred  with  Caesar  almost  in  the  same  words,  and 
on  the  same  subject,  and  declared  that  Pompey  had  em- 
powered him  to  do  so. 

Though  these  things  seemed  to  have  no  tendency  toward 
redressing  his  injuries,  yet  having  got  proper  persons  by 
whom  he  could  communicate  his  wishes  to  Pompey;  he  re- 
quired of  them  both,  that,  as  they  had  conveyed  Pompey 's 
demands  to  him,  they  should  not  refuse  to  convey  his  demands 
to  Pompey;  if  by  so  little  trouble  they  could  terminate  a 
great  dispute,  and  liberate  all  Italy  from  her  fears.  "That 
the  honor  of  the  republic  had  ever  been  his  first  object,  and 
dearer  to  him  than  life;  that  he  was  chagrined,  that  the 
favor  of  the  Roman  people  was  wrested  from  him  by  the  in- 
jurious reports  of  his  enemies;  that  he  was  deprived  of  a 
half-year's  command,  and  dragged  back  to  the  city,  though 
the  people  had  ordered  that  regard  should  be  paid  to  his 
suit  for  the  consulate  at  the  next  election,  though  he  was 
not  present ;  that,  however,  he  had  patiently  submitted  to  this 
loss  of  honor,  for  the  sake  of  the  republic;  that  when  he 
wrote  letters  to  the  senate,  requiring  that  all  persons  should 
resign  the  command  of  their  armies,  he  did  not  obtain  even 
that  request;  that  levies  were  made  throughout  Italy;  that 
the  two  legions  which  had  been  taken  from  him,  under  the 
pretense  of  the  Parthian  war,  were  kept  at  home,  and  that 
the  state  was  in  arms.  To  what  did  all  these  things  tend, 
unless  to  his  ruin?  But,  nevertheless,  he  was  ready  to  con- 


104-  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

descend  to  any  terms,  and  to  endure  everything  for  the  sake 
of  the  republic.  Let  Pompey1  go  to  his  own  province;  let 
them  both  disband  their  armies;  let  all  persons  in  Italy  lay 
down  their  arms;  let  all  fears  be  removed  from  the  city; 
let  free  elections,  and  the  whole  republic  be  resigned  to  the 
direction  of  the  senate  and  Roman  people.  That  these  things 
might  be  the  more  easily  performed,  and  conditions  secured 
and  confirmed  by  oath,  either  let  Pompey  come  to  Caesar,  or 
allow  Civsar  to  go  to  him ;  it  might  be  that  all  their  disputes 
would  be  settled  by  an  interview." 

Roscius  and  Lucius  Caesar,  having  received  this  message, 
went  to  Capua,  where  they  met  the  consuls  and  Pompey,  and 
declared  to  them  Cajsar's  terms.  Having  deliberated  on  the 
matter,  they  replied,  and  sent  written  proposals  to  him  by 
the  same  persons,  the  purport  of  which  was,  that  Caesar  should 
return  into  Gaul,  leave  Ariminum,  and  disband  his  army: 
if  he  complied  with  this,  that  Pompey  would  go  to  Spain. 
In  the  meantime,  until  security  was  given  that  Caesar  would 
perform  his  promises,  that  the  consuls  and  Poinpey  would 
not  give  over  their  levies. 

It  was  not  an  equitable  proposal,  to  require  that  Caesar 
should  quit  Ariminum  and  return  to  his  province;  but  that 
Pompey  should  himself  retain  his  province  and  the  legions 
that  belonged  to  another,  and  desire  that  Caesar's  army  should 
be  disbanded,  while  he  himself  was  making  new  levies:  and 
that  he  should  merely  promise  to  go  to  his  province,  with- 
out naming  the  day  on  which  he  would  set  out ;  so  that  if  he 
should  not  set  out  till  after  Caesar's  consulate  expired,  yet  he 
would  not  appear  bound  by  any  religious  scruples  about  as- 
serting a  falsehood.  But  his  not  granting  time  for  a  con- 
ference, nor  promising  to  set  out  to  meet  him,  made  the  ex- 
pectation of  peace  appear  very  hopeless.  Caesar,  therefore, 
sent  Marcus  Antonius,  with  five  cohorts  from  Ariminum  to 
Arretium ;  he  himself  stayed  at  Arirainum  with  two  legions, 

1  When  Ccesar  and  Pompey  were  reconciled,  they  and  Crassus  divided 
the  provinces  between  them.  Cajsar  got  Hither  and  Further  Gaul ;  Cras- 
sus,  Parthia;  and  Pompey,  Spain  and  Africa.  The  others  set  out  for  their 
respective  provinces.  Pompey  dispatched  his  lieutenants  to  manage  his 
provinces,  and  remained  himself  in  Italy  with  an  army,  which  (Ja?sar 
thought  a  great  stretch  of  power,  that  he  should  command  both  his  own 
provinces  and  Italy  at  the  same  time. 


JULIUS  C^SAR  105 

with  the  intention  of  raising  levies  there.  He  secured 
Pisaurus,  Fanum,  and  Ancona,  with  a  cohort  each. 

In  the  meantime,  being  informed  that  Thermus  the  praetor 
was  in  possession  of  Iguvium,  with  five  cohorts,  and  was 
fortifying  the  town,  but  that  the  affections  of  all  the  in- 
habitants were  very  well  inclined  toward  himself,  he  detached 
Curio  with  three  cohorts,  which  he  had  at  Ariminum  and 
Pisaurus.  Upon  notice  of  his  approach,  Thermus,  distrusting 
the  affections  of  the  townsmen,  drew  his  cohorts  out  of  it,  and 
made  his  escape;  his  soldiers  deserted  him  on  the  road,  and 
returned  home.  Curio  recovered  Iguvium,  with  the  cheerful 
concurrence  of  all  the  inhabitants.  Caesar,  having  received 
an  account  of  this,  and  relying  on  the  affections  of  the 
municipal  towns,  drafted  all  the  cohorts  of  the  thirteenth 
legion  from  the  garrison,  and  set  out  for  Auximum,  a  town 
into  which  Attius  had  brought  his  cohorts,  and  of  which 
he  had  taken  possession,  and  from  which  he  had  sent  senators 
round  about  the  country  of  Picenum,  to  raise  new  levies. 

Upon  news  of  Caesar's  approach,  the  senate  of  Auximum 
went  in  a  body  to  Attius  Varus ;  and  told  him  that  it  was  not 
a  subject  for  them  to  determine  upon :  yet  neither  they,  nor 
the  rest  of  the  freemen  would  suffer  Caius  Caesar,  a  general, 
who  had  merited  so  well  of  the  republic,  after  performing 
such  great  achievements,  to  be  excluded  from  their  town  and 
walls;  wherefore  he  ought  to  pay  some  regard  to  the  opinion 
of  posterity,  and  his  own  danger.  Alarmed  at  this  declara- 
tion, Attius  Varus  drew  out  of  the  town  the  garrison  which 
he  had  introduced,  and  fled.  A  few  of  Cassar's  front  rank 
having  pursued  him,  obliged  him  to  halt,  and  when  the 
battle  began,  Varus  is  deserted  by  his  troops:  some  of  them 
disperse  to  their  homes,  the  rest  come  over  to  Caesar;  and 
along  with  them,  Lucius  Pupius,  the  chief  centurion,  is 
taken  prisoner  and  brought  to  Caesar.  He  had  held  the 
same  rank  before  in  Cneius  Pompey's  army.  But  Caesar 
applauded  the  soldiers  of  Attius,  set  Pupius  at  liberty,  re- 
turned thanks  to  the  people  of  Auximum,  and  promised  to 
be  grateful  for  their  conduct. 

Intelligence  of  this  being  brought  to  Rome,  so  great  a 
panic  spread  on  a  sudden  that  when  Lentulus,  the  consul, 
came  to  open  the  treasury,  to  deliver  money  to  Pompey  by  the 


106  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

senate's  decree,  immediately  on  opening  the  hallowed  door 
he  fled  from  the  city.  For  it  was  falsely  rumored  that 
Ca?sar  was  approaching,  and  that  his  cavalry  were  already  at 
the  gates.  Marcellus,  his  colleague,  followed  him,  and  so  did 
most  of  the  magistrates.  Cneius  Pompey  had  left  the  city 
the  day  before,  and  was  on  his  march  to  those  legions  which 
he  had  received  from  Caesar,  and  had  disposed  in  winter 
quarters  in  Apulia.  The  levies  were  stopped  within  the  city. 
No  place  on  this  side  of  Capua  was  thought  secure.  At 
Capua  they  first  began  to  take  courage  and  to  rally,  and 
determined  to  raise  levies  in  the  colonies,  which  had  been 
sent  thither  by  the  Julian  law:  and  Lentulus  brought  into 
the  public  market  place  the  gladiators  which  Ciesar  main- 
tained there  for  the  entertainment  of  the  people,  and  con- 
firmed them  in  their  liberty,  and  gave  them  horses  and 
ordered  them  to  attend  him ;  but  afterward,  being  warned 
by  his  friends  that  this  action  was  censured  by  the  judg- 
ment of  all,  he  distributed  them  among  the  slaves  of  the 
district  of  Campania,  to  keep  guard  there. 

Caesar,  having  moved  forward  from  Auximum,  traversed 
the  whole  country  of  Picenum.  All  the  governors  in  these 
countries  most  cheerfully  received  him,  and  aided  his  army 
with  every  necessary.  Ambassadors  came  to  him  even  from 
Cingulum,  a  town  which  Labienus  had  laid  out  and  built  at 
his  own  expense,  and  offered  most  earnestly  to  comply  with 
his  orders.  He  demanded  soldiers:  they  sent  them.  In  the 
meantime,  the  twelfth  legion  came  to  join  Caesar;  with 
these  two  he  marched  to  Asculum,  the  chief  town  of  Picenum. 
Lentulus  Spinther  occupied  that  town  with  ten  cohorts;  but, 
on  being  informed  of  Ca?sar's  approach,  he  fled  from  the 
town,  and,  in  attempting  to  bring  off  his  cohorts  with  him, 
was  deserted  by  a  great  part  of  his  men.  Being  left  on  the 
road  with  a  small  number,  he  fell  in  with  Vibullius  Rufus, 
who  was  sent  by  Pompey  into  Picenum  to  confirm  the  peo- 
ple in  their  allegiance.  Vibullius,  being  informed  by  him 
of  the  transactions  of  Picenum,  takes  his  soldiers  from  him 
and  dismisses  him.  He  collects,  likewise,  from  the  neighbor- 
ing countries,  as  many  cohorts  as  he  can  from  Pompey 's 
new  levies.  Among  them  he  meets  with  Ulcilles  Hirrus 
fleeing  from  Camerinum,  with  six  cohorts,  which  he  had  in 


JULIUS  CLESAR  107 

the  garrison  there;  by  a  junction  with  which  he  made  up 
thirteen  cohorts.  With  them  he  marched  by  hasty  journeys 
to  Corfinium,  to  Domitius  .^nobarbus,  and  informed  him 
that  Caesar  was  advancing  with  two  legions.  Domitius  had 
collected  about  twenty  cohorts  from  Alba,  and  the  Marsians, 
Pelignians,  and  neighboring  states. 

Caesar,  having  recovered  Asculum  and  driven  out  Lentulus, 
ordered  the  soldiers  that  had  deserted  from  him  to  be  sought 
out  and  a  muster  to  be  made;  and,  having  delayed  for  one 
day  there  to  provide  corn,  he  marched  to  Corfinium.  On  his 
approach,  five  cohorts,  sent  by  Domitius  from  the  town,  were 
breaking  down  a  bridge  which  was  over  the  river,  at  three 
miles'  distance  from  it.  An  engagement  taking  place  there 
with  Caesar's  advanced-guard,  Domitius 's  men  were  quickly 
beaten  off  from  the  bridge  and  retreated  precipitately  into 
the  town.  Caesar,  having  marched  his  legions  over,  halted 
before  the  town  and  encamped  close  by  the  walls. 

Domitius,  upon  observing  this,  sent  messengers  well  ac- 
quainted with  the  country,  encouraged  by  a  promise  of  being 
amply  rewarded,  with  dispatches  to  Pompey  to  Apulia,  to 
beg  and  entreat  him  to  come  to  his  assistance.  That  Caesar 
could  be  easily  inclosed  by  the  two  armies,  through  the 
narrowness  of  the  country,  and  prevented  from  obtaining 
supplies :  unless  he  did  so,  that  he  and  upward  of  thirty 
cohorts,  and  a  great  number  of  senators  and  Roman  knights, 
would  be  in  extreme  danger.  In  the  meantime  he  en- 
couraged his  troops,  disposed  engines  on  the  walls,  and  as- 
signed to  each  man  a  particular  part  of  the  city  to  defend. 
In  a  speech  to  the  soldiers  he  promised  them  lands  out  of 
his  own  estate;  to  every  private  soldier  four  acres,  and  a 
corresponding  share  to  the  centurions  and  veterans. 

In  the  meantime,  word  was  brought  to  Caesar  that  the 
people  of  Sulmo,  a  town  about  seven  miles  distant  from 
Corfinium,  were  ready  to  obey  his  orders,  but  were  prevented 
by  Quintus  Lucretius,  a  senator,  and  Attius,  a  Pelignian,  who 
were  in  possession  of  the  town  with  a  garrison  of  seven 
cohorts.  He  sent  Marcus  Antonius  thither,  with  five  cohorts 
of  the  eighth  legion.  The  inhabitants,  as  soon  as  they  saw 
our  standards,  threw  open  their  gates,  and  all  the  people,  both 
citizens  and  soldiers,  went  out  to  meet  and  welcome  Antonius. 


108  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

Lucretius  and  Attius  leaped  off  the  walls.  Attius,  being 
brought  before  Antonius,  begged  that  he  might  be  sent  to 
Ciesar.  Antonius  returned  the  same  day  on  which  he  ha<l 
set  out  with  the  cohorts  and  Attius.  Caesar  added  these 
cohorts  to  his  own  army,  and  sent  Attius  away  in  safety. 
The  three  first  days  Ctesar  employed  in  fortifying  his  camp 
with  strong  works,  in  bringing  in  corn  from  the  neighbor- 
ing free  towns,  and  waiting  for  the  rest  of  his  forces.  Within 
the  three  days  the  eighth  legion  came  to  him,  and  twenty-two 
cohorts  of  the  new  levies  in  Gaul,  and  about  three  hundred 
horse  from  the  king  of  Noricum.  On  their  arrival  he  made 
a  second  camp  on  another  part  of  the  town,  and  gave  the 
command  of  it  to  Curio.  He  determined  to  surround  the 
town  with  a  rampart  and  turrets  during  the  remainder  of 
the  time.  Nearly  at  the  time  when  the  greatest  part  of 
the  work  was  completed,  all  the  messengers  sent  to  Pompey 
returned. 

Having  read  Pompey 's  letter,  Domitius,  concealing  the 
truth,  gave  out  in  council  that  Pompey  would  speedily  come 
to  their  assistance ;  and  encouraged  them  not  to  despond,  but 
to  provide  everything  necessary  for  the  defense  of  the 
town.  He  held  private  conferences  with  a  few  of  his  most 
intimate  friends,  and  determined  on  the  design  of  fleeing. 
As  Domitius 's  countenance  did  not  agree  with  his  words,  and 
he  did  everything  with  more  confusion  and  fear  than  he 
had  shown  on  the  preceding  days,  and  as  he  had  several 
private  meetings  with  his  friends,  contrary  to  his  usual 
practice,  in  order  to  take  their  advice,  and  as  he  avoided 
all  public  councils  and  assemblies  of  the  people,  the  truth 
could  be  no  longer  hid  nor  dissembled ;  for  Pompey  had 
written  back  in  answer,  "that  he  would  not  put  matters  to 
the  last  hazard ;  that  Domitius  had  retreated  into  the  town 
of  Corfinium  without  either  his  advice  or  consent.  There- 
fore, if  any  opportunity  should  offer,  Domitius  should  come 
to  him  with  the  whole  force."  But  the  blockade  and  works 
round  the  town  prevented  his  escape. 

Domitius 's  design  being  noised  abroad,  the  soldiers  in 
Corfinium  early  in  the  evening  began  to  mutiny,  and  held  a 
conference  with  each  other  by  their  tribunes  and  centu- 
rions, and  the  most  respectable  among  themselves :  ' '  that  they 


JULIUS  C^SAR  109 

were  besieged  by  Caesar ;  that  his  works  and  fortifications  were 
almost  finished ;  that  their  general,  Domitius,  on  whose  hopes 
and  expectations  they  had  confided,  had  thrown  them  off, 
and  was  meditating  his  own  escape ;  that  they  ought  to  pro- 
vide for  their  own  safety."  At  first  the  Marsians  differed 
in  opinion,  and  possessed  themselves  of  that  part  of  the  town 
which  they  thought  the  strongest.  And  so  violent  a  dispute 
arose  between  them,  that  they  attempted  to  fight  and  decide 
it  by  arms.  However,  in  a  little  time,  by  messengers  sent 
from  one  side  to  the  other,  they  were  informed  of  Domitius 's 
meditated  flight,  of  which  they  were  previously  ignorant. 
Therefore  they  all  with  one  consent  brought  Domitius  into 
public  view,  gathered  round  him,  and  guarded  him ;  and  sent 
deputies  out  of  their  number  to  Caesar,  to  say  that  they 
were  ready  to  throw  open  their  gates,  to  do  whatever  he 
should  order,  and  deliver  up  Domitius  alive  into  his  hands. 
Upon  intelligence  of  these  matters,  though  Caesar  thought 
it  of  great  consequence  to  become  master  of  the  town  as 
soon  as  possible,  and  to  transfer  the  cohorts  to  his  own  camp, 
lest  any  change  should  be  wrought  on  their  inclinations  by 
bribes,  encouragement,  or  fictitious  messages,  because  in  war 
great  events  are  often  brought  about  by  trifling  circum- 
stances; yet,  dreading  lest  the  town  should  be  plundered  by 
the  soldiers  entering  into  it,  and  taking  advantage  of  the 
darkness  of  the  night,  he  commended  the  persons  who  came 
to  him,  and  sent  them  back  to  the  town,  and  ordered  the  gates 
and  walls  to  be  secured!  He  disposed  his  soldiers  on  the 
works  which  he  had  begun,  not  at  certain  intervals,  as  was 
his  practice  before,  but  in  one  continued  range  of  senti- 
nels and  stations,  so  that  they  touched  each  other,  and 
formed  a  circle  round  the  whole  fortification;  he  ordered 
the  tribunes  and  general  officers  to  ride  round ;  and  exhorted 
them  not  only  to  be  on  their  guard  against  sallies  from 
the  town,  but  also  to  watch  that  no  single  person  should 
get  out  privately.  Nor  was  any  man  so  negligent  or  drowsy 
as  to  sleep  that  night.  To  so  great  height  was  their  ex- 
pectation raised,  that  they  were  carried  away,  heart  and  soul, 
each  to  different  objects,  what  would  become  of  the  Cor- 
finians,  what  of  Domitius,  what  of  Lentulus,  what  of  the 
rest;  what  event  would  be  the  consequence  of  another. 


110  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

About  the  fourth  watch,  Lentulus  Spinther  said  to  our 
sentinels  and  guards  from  the  walls,  that  he  desired  to  have 
an  interview  with  Caesar,  if  permission  were  given  him.  Hav- 
ing obtained  it,  he  was  escorted  out  of  town;  nor  did  the 
soldiers  of  Domitius  leave  him  till  they  brought  him  into 
Caesar's  presence.  He  pleaded  with  Caesar  for  his  life,  and 
entreated  him  to  spare  him,  and  reminded  him  of  their  former 
friendship;  and  acknowledged  that  Caesar's  favors  to  him 
were  very  great;  in  that  through  his  interest  he  had  been 
admitted  into  the  college  of  priests ;  in  that  after  his  praetor- 
ship  he  had  been  appointed  to  the  government  of  Spain ;  in 
that  he  had  been  assisted  by  him  in  his  suit  for  the  con- 
sulate. Caesar  interrupted  him  in  his  speech,  and  told  him, 
"that  he  had  not  left  his  province  to  do  mischief  to  any 
man,  but  to  protect  himself  from  the  injuries  of  his  enemies ; 
to  restore  to  their  dignity  the  tribunes  of  the  people  who 
had  been  driven  out  of  the  city  on  his  account,  and  to  assert 
his  own  liberty,  and  that  of  the  Roman  people,  who  were 
oppressed  by  a  few  factious  men."  Encouraged  by  this  ad- 
dress, Lentulus  begged  leave  to  return  to  the  town,  that  the 
security  which  he  had  obtained  for  himself  might  be  an  en- 
couragement to  the  rest  to  hope  for  theirs ;  saying  that  some 
were  so  terrified  that  they  were  induced  to  make  desperate 
attempts  on  their  own  lives.  Leave  being  granted  him,  he 
departed. 

When  day  appeared,  Caesar  ordered  all  the  senators  and 
their  children,  the  tribunes  of  the  soldiers,  and  the  Roman 
knights  to  be  brought  before  him.  Among  the  persons  of 
senatorial  rank  were  Lucius  Domitius,  Publius  Lentulus 
Spinther,  Lucius  Vibullius  Rufus,  Sextus  Quintilius  Varus, 
the  quaestor,  and  Lucius  Rubrius,  besides  the  son  of  Domitius, 
and  several  other  young  men,  and  a  great  number  of  Roman 
knights  and  burgesses,  whom  Domitius  had  summoned  from 
the  municipal  towns.  When  they  were  brought  before  him  he 
protected  them  from  the  insolence  and  taunts  of  the  soldiers ; 
told  them  in  few  words  that  they  had  not  made  him  a  grate- 
ful return,  on  their  part,  for  his  very  extraordinary  kindness 
to  them,  and  dismissed  them  all  in  safety.  Sixty  sestertia, 
which  Domitius  had  brought  with  him  and  lodged  in  the 
public  treasury,  being  brought  to  Caesar  by  the  magistrates 


JULIUS  CLESAR  111 

of  Corfinium,  he  gave  them  back  to  Domitius,  that  he  might 
not  appear  more  moderate  with  respect  to  the  life  of  men 
than  in  money  matters,  though  he  knew  that  it  was  public 
money,  and  had  been  given  by  Pompey  to  pay  his  army. 
He  ordered  Domitius 's  soldiers  to  take  the  oath  to  himself, 
and  that  day  decamped  and  performed  the  regular  march.2 
He  stayed  only  seven  days  before  Corfinium,  and  marched 
into  Apulia  through  the  country  of  the  Marrucinians, 
Frentanians  and  Larinates. 

Pompey,  being  informed  of  what  had  passed  at  Cor- 
finium, marches  from  Luceria  to  Canusium,  and  thence  to 
Brundusium.3  He  orders  all  the  forces  raised  everywhere 
by  the  new  levies  to  repair  to  him.  He  gives  arms  to 
the  slaves  that  attended  the  flocks,  and  appoints  horses  for 
them.  Of  these  he  made  up  about  three  hundred  horse. 
Lucius,  the  praetor,  fled  from  Alba,  with  six  cohorts :  Rutilus 
Lupus,  the  praetor,  from  Tarracina,  with  three.  These  hav- 
ing described  Cassar's  cavalry  at  a  distance,  which  were  com- 
manded by  Bivius  Curius,  and  having  deserted  the  praator, 
carried  their  colors  to  Curius  and  went  over  to  him.  In 
like  manner,  during  the  rest  of  his  march,  several  cohorts 
fell  in  with  the  main  body  of  Cassar's  army,  others  with 
his  horse.  Cneius  Magius,  from  Cremona,  engineer-general 
to  Pompey,  was  taken  prisoner  on  the  road  and  brought  to 
Cassar,  but  sent  back  by  him  to  Pompey  with  this  message: 
"As  hitherto  he  had  not  been  allowed  an  interview,  and  was 
now  on  his  march  to  him  at  Brundusium,  that  it  deeply  con- 
cerned the  commonwealth  and  general  safety  that  he  should 
have  an  interview  with  Pompey ;  and  that  the  same  advantage 
could  not  be  gained  at  a  great  distance  when  the  proposals 
were  conveyed  to  them  by  others,  as  if  terms  were  argued 
by  them  both  in  person." 

Having  delivered  this  message  he  marched  to  Brundusium 
with  six  legions,  four  of  them  veterans :  the  rest  those  which 
he  had  raised  in  the  late  levy  and  completed  on  his  march, 
for  he  had  sent  all  Domitius 's  cohorts  immediately  from 
Corfinium  to  Sicily.  He  discovered  that  the  consuls  were 
gone  to  Dyrrachium  with  a  considerable  part  of  the  army, 

3  The  regular  march  was  about  twenty  Eoman  miles. 

*  Brundusium,  modern  Brindisi,  a  city  of  Calabria,  in  the  south  of  Italy. 


112  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

and  that  Pompey  remained  at  Brundusium  with  twenty 
cohorts;  but  could  not  find  out,  for  a  certainty,  whether 
Pompey  stayed  behind  to  keep  possession  of  Brundusium,  that 
he  might  the  more  easily  command  the  whole  Adriatic  sea, 
with  the  extremities  of  Italy  and  the  coast  of  Greece,  and 
be  able  to  conduct  the  war  on  either  side  of  it,  or  whether 
he  remained  there  for  want  of  shipping;  and,  being  afraid 
that  Pompey  would  come  to  the  conclusion  that  he  ought 
not  to  relinquish  Italy,  he  determined  to  deprive  him  of  the 
means  of  communication  afforded  by  the  harbor  of 
Brundusium.  The  plan  of  his  work  was  as  follows: — Where 
the  mouth  of  the  port  was  narrowest  he  threw  up  a  mole  of 
earth  on  either  side,  because  in  these  places  the  sea  was 
shallow.  Having  gone  out  so  far  that  the  mole  could  not 
be  continued  in  the  deep  water,  he  fixed  double  floats,  thirty 
feet  on  either  side,  before  the  mole.  These  he  fastened  with 
four  anchors  at  the  four  corners,  that  they  might  not  be 
carried  away  by  the  waves.  Having  completed  and  secured 
them,  he  then  joined  to  them  other  floats  of  equal  size. 
These  he  covered  over  with  earth  and  mold,  that  he  might  not 
be  prevented  from  access  to  them  to  defend  them,  and  in  the 
front  and  on  both  sides  be  protected  them  with  a  parapet 
of  wicker  work ;  and  on  every  fourth  one  raised  a  turret, 
two  stories  high,  to  secure  them  the  better  from  being  at- 
tacked by  the  shipping  and  set  on  fire. 

To  counteract  this,  Pompey  fitted  out  large  merchant  ships, 
which  he  found  in  the  harbor  of  Brundusium:  on  them  he 
erected  turrets  three  stories  high,  and,  having  furnished  them 
with  several  engines  and  all  sorts  of  weapons,  drove  them 
among  Caesar's  works,  to  break  through  the  floats  and  in- 
terrupt the  works ;  thus  there  happened  skirmishes  every  day 
at  a  distance  with  slings,  arrows,  and  other  weapons.  Caesar 
conducted  matters  as  if  he  thought  that  the  hopes  of  peace 
wore  not  yet  to  be  given  up.  And  though  he  was  very  much 
surprised  that  Magius,  whom  he  had  sent  to  Pompey  with 
a  message,  was  not  sent  back  to  him ;  and  though  his  at- 
tempting a  reconciliation  often  retarded  the  vigorous  prosecu- 
tion of  his  plans,  yet  he  thought  that  he  ought  by  all  means 
to  persevere  in  the  same  line  of  conduct.  He  therefore  sent 
Can  in  ins  Rebilus  to  have  an  interview  with  Scribonius  Libo, 


JULIUS  CAESAR  113 

his  intimate  friend  and  relation.  He  charges  him  to  exhort 
Libo  to  effect  a  peace,  but,  above  all  things,  requires  that 
he  should  be  admitted  to  an  interview  with  Pompey.  He 
declared  that  he  had  great  hopes,  if  that  were  allowed  him, 
that  the  consequence  would  be  that  both  parties  would  lay 
down  their  arms  on  equal  terms;  that  a  great  share  of  the 
glory  and  reputation  of  that  event  would  redound  to  Libo, 
if,  through  his  advice  and  agency,  hostilities  should  be  ended. 
Libo,  having  parted  from  the  conference  with  Caninius,  went 
to  Pompey,  and,  shortly  after,  returned  with  answer  that,  as 
the  consuls  were  absent,  no  treaty  of  composition  could  be 
engaged  in  without  them.  Cassar  therefore  thought  it  time  at 
length  to  give  over  the  attempt  which  he  had  often  made 
in  vain,  and  act  with  energy  in  the  war. 

When  Caesar's  works  were  nearly  half  finished,  and  after 
nine  days  were  spent  in  them,  the  ships  which  had  conveyed 
the  first  division  of  the  army  to  Dyrrachium  being  sent  back 
by  the  consuls,  returned  to  Brundusium.  Pompey,  either 
frightened  at  Caesar  's  works  or  determined  from  the  beginning 
to  quit  Italy,  began  to  prepare  for  his  departure  on  the  ar- 
rival of  the  ships ;  and  the  more  effectually  to  retard  Caesar 's 
attack,  lest  his  soldiers  should  force  their  way  into  the 
town  at  the  moment  of  his  departure,  he  stopped  up  the 
gates,  built  walls  across  the  streets  and  avenues,  sunk  trenches 
across  the  ways,  and  in  them  fixed  palisadoes  and  sharp 
stakes,  which  he  made  level  with  the  ground  by  means  of 
hurdles  and  clay.  But  he  barricaded  with  large  beams 
fastened  in  the  ground  and  sharpened  at  the  ends  two  pas- 
sages and  roads  without  the  walls,  which  led  to  the  port. 
After  making  these  arrangements,  he  ordered  his  soldiers  to 
go  on  board  without  noise,  and  disposed  here  and  there,  on 
the  wall  and  turrets,  some  light-armed  veterans,  archers 
and  slingers.  These  he  designed  to  call  off  by  a  certain  signal, 
when  all  the  soldiers  were  embarked,  and  left  row-galleys  for 
them  in  a  secure  place. 

The  people  of  Brundusium,  irritated  by  the  insolence  of 
Pompey 's  soldiers,  and  the  insults  received  from  Pompey 
himself,  were  in  favor  of  Cesar's  party.  Therefore,  as  soon 
as  they  were  aware  of  Pompey 's  departure,  while  his  men 
were  running  up  and  down,  and  busied  about  their  voyage, 

A.  V.  1—8 


114  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

they  made  signs  from  the  tops  of  the  houses:  Caesar,  being 
apprised  of  the  design  by  them,  ordered  scaling-ladders  to  be 
got  ready,  and  his  men  to  take  arms,  that  he  might  not  lose 
any  opportunity  of  coming  to  an  action.  Pompey  weighed 
anchor  at  nightfall.  The  soldiers  who  had  been  posted  on  the 
wall  to  guard  it,  were  called  off  by  the  signal  which  had  been 
agreed  on,  and  knowing  the  roads,  ran  down  to  the  ships. 
Ca?sar's  soldiers  fixed  their  ladders  and  scaled  the  walls:  but 
being  cautioned  by  the  people  to  beware  of  the  hidden  stakes 
and  covered  trenches,  they  halted,  and  being  conducted  by 
the  inhabitants  by  a  long  circuit,  they  reached  the  port,  and 
captured  with  their  long  boats  and  small  craft  two  of  Pom- 
pey's  ships,  full  of  soldiers,  which  had  struck  against  Caesar's 
moles. 

Though  Caesar  highly  approved  of  collecting  a  fleet,  and 
crossing  the  sea,  and  pursuing  Pompey  before  he  could 
strengthen  himself  with  his  transmarine  auxiliaries,  with  the 
hope  of  bringing  the  war  to  a  conclusion,  yet  he  dreaded  the 
delay  and  length  of  time  necessary  to  effect  it :  because  Pom- 
pey, by  collecting  all  his  ships,  had  deprived  him  of  the  means 
of  pursuing  him  at  present.  The  only  resource  left  to  Cffisar, 
was  to  wait  for  a  fleet  from  the  distant  regions  of  Gaul, 
Picenum,  and  the  straits  of  Gibraltar.  But  this,  on  account 
of  the  season  of  the  year,  appeared  tedious  and  troublesome. 
He  was  unwilling  that,  in  the  meantime,  the  veteran  army, 
and  the  two  Spains,  one  of  which  was  bound  to  Pompey  by 
the  strongest  obligations,  should  be  confirmed  in  his  interest ; 
that  auxiliaries  and  cavalry  should  be  provided,  and  Gaul 
and  Italy  reduced  in  his  absence. 

Therefore,  for  the  present,  he  relinquished  all  intention  of 
pursuing  Pompey,  and  resolved  to  march  to  Spain,  and  com- 
manded the  magistrates  of  the  free  towns  to  procure  him 
ships,  and  to  have  them  conveyed  to  Brundusium.  He  de- 
tached Valerius,  his  lieutenant,  with  one  legion  to  Sardinia ; 
Curio,  the  propnptor,  to  Sicily  with  three  legions ;  and  ordered 
him,  when  he  had  recovered  Sicily,  to  immediately  transport 
his  army  to  Africa.  Marcus  Cotta  was  at  this  time  governor 
of  Sardinia:  Marcus  Cato,4  of  Sicily:  and  Tubero,  by  the  lots, 

*  Marcus  Cato,  better  known  by  the  name  of  Cato  of  Utica,  was  one  o" 
the  most  determined  enemies  of  Caesar.  He  continued  the  struggle  until 


JULIUS  C^SAR  115 

should  have  had  the  government  of  Africa.  The  Caralitani,' 
as  soon  as  they  heard  that  Valerius  was  sent  against  them, 
even  before  he  left  Italy,  of  their  own  accord  drove  Cotta  out 
of  the  town;  who,  terrified  because  he  understood  that  the 
whole  province  was  combined  [against  him],  fled  from  Sar- 
dinia to  Africa.  Cato  was  in  Sicily,  repairing  the  old  ships 
of  war,  and  demanding  new  ones  from  the  states,  and  these 
things  he  performed  with  great  zeal.  He  was  raising  levies 
of  Roman  citizens,  among  the  Lucani  and  Brutii,  by  his  lieu- 
tenants, and  exacting  a  certain  quota  of  horse  and  foot  from 
the  states  of  Sicily.  When  these  things  were  nearly  com- 
pleted, being  informed  of  Curio's  approach,  he  made  a  com- 
plaint that  he  was  abandoned  and  betrayed  by  Pompey,  who 
had  undertaken  an  unnecessary  war,  without  making  any 
preparation,  and  when  questioned  by  him  and  other  members 
in  the  senate,  had  assured  them  that  everything  was  ready 
and  provided  for  the  war.  After  having  made  these  com- 
plaints in  a  public  assembly,  he  fled  from  his  province. 

When  these  affairs  were  dispatched,  Ceesar,  that  there  might 
be  an  intermission  from  labor  for  the  rest  of  the  season,  drew 
off  his  soldiers  to  the  nearest  municipal  towns,  and  set  off  in 
person  for  Rome.  Having  assembled  the  senate,  he  reminded 
them  of  the  injustice  of  his  enemies;  and  told  them,  "that  he 
aimed  at  no  extraordinary  honor,  but  had  waited  for  the  time 
appointed  by  law,6  for  standing  candidate  for  the  consulate, 
being  contented  with  what  was  allowed  to  every  citizen.  That 
a  bill  had  been  carried  by  the  ten  tribunes  of  the  people  (not- 
withstanding the  resistance  of  his  enemies,  and  a  very  violent 
opposition  from  Cato,  who  in  his  usual  manner,  consumed 
the  day  by  a  tedious  harangue)  that  he  should  be  allowed  to 
stand  candidate,  though  absent,  even  in  the  consulship  of 
Pompey ;  and  if  the  latter  disapproved  of  the  bill,  why  did  he 

affairs  became  desperate,  and  then  committed  suicide  in  Utica,  a  town  of 
Africa.  Cato  the  elder,  surnamed  the  Censor,  was  the  first  distinguished 
man  of  the  name.  Livy  remarked  of  him,  that  his  talents  were  so  great 
and  so  versatile,  that  he  could  have  raised  himself  to  the  highest  honors 
of  any  state  in  which  he  might  have  been  born.  He  was  a  most  deadly 
foe  to  Carthage,  and  concluded  every  debate  in  the  senate  with  the  well- 
known  words,  "delenda  est  Carthago." 

*  The  inhabitants  of  Carales,  now  Cagliari,  the  modern  capital  of  Sar- 
dinia, in  the  south  of  the  island.  It  was  built  by  the  Carthaginians. 

8  Ten  years  had  elapsed  since  his  former  consulate. 


116  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

allow  it  to  pass?  if  he  approved  of  it,  why  should  he  debar 
him  [Caesar]  from  the  people's  favor?  He  made  mention  of 
his  own  patience,  in  that  he  had  freely  proposed  that  all 
armies  should  be  disbanded,  by  which  he  himself  would  suffer 
the  loss  both  of  dignity  and  honor.  He  urged  the  virulence 
of  his  enemies,  who  refused  to  comply  with  what  they  required 
from  others,  and  had  rather  that  all  things  should  be  thrown 
into  confusion,  than  that  they  should  lose  their  power  and 
their  armies.  lie  expatiated  on  their  injustice,  in  taking  away 
his  legions :  their  cruelty  and  insolence  in  abridging  the  priv- 
ileges of  the  tribunes;  the  proposals  he  had  made,  and  his 
entreaties  of  an  interview  which  had  been  refused  him.  For 
which  reasons,  he  begged  and  desired  that  they  would  under- 
take the  management  of  the  republic,  and  unite  with  him  in 
the  administration  of  it.  But  if  through  fear  they  declined 
it,  he  would  not  be  a  burden  to  them,  but  take  the  management 
of  it  on  himself.  That  deputies  ought  to  be  sent  to  Pompey, 
to  propose  a  reconciliation ;  as  he  did  not  regard  what  Pom- 
pey had  lately  asserted  in  the  senate,  that  authority  was 
acknowledged  to  be  vested  in  those  persons  to  whom  ambassa- 
dors were  sent,  and  fear  implied  in  those  that  sent  them. 
That  these  were  the  sentiments  of  low,  weak  minds:  that  for 
his  part,  as  he  had  made  it  his  study  to  surpass  others  in 
glory,  so  he  was  desirous  of  excelling  them  in  justice  and 
equity." 

The  senate  approved  of  sending  deputies,  but  none  could  be 
found  fit  to  execute  the  commission:  for  every  person,  from 
his  own  private  fears,  declined  the  office.  For  Pompey,  on 
leaving  the  city,  had  declared  in  the  open  senate,  that  he 
would  hold  in  the  same  degree  of  estimation  those  who  stayed 
in  Rome  and  those  in  Ctrsar's  camp.  Thus  three  days  were 
wasted  in  disputes  and  excuses.  Besides,  Lucius  Metellus,  one 
of  the  tribunes,  was  suborned  by  Ctesar's  enemies,  to  prevent 
this,  and  to  embarrass  7  everything  else  which  Cffisar  should 

7  Before  Caesar  left  the  city,  lie  took  out  of  the  treasury  a  large  sum  of 
money,  deposited  there  as  a  fund  to  defray  the  expenses  of  any  war  that 
might  arise  from  the  Gauls,  of  whom  the  Romans  had  a  peculiar  horror, 
alleging  that,  as  he  conquered  the  Gauls,  there  was  no  use  for  it.  Metellua 
attempted  to  prevent  him,  but  he  drew  his  sword  in  an  attitude  of  menace, 
saying,  "  Young  man,  it  is  as  easy  to  do  this  as  to  say  it."  The  money 
was  soon  exj>ended,  as  Cff-sar,  not  long  after,  was  obliged  to  borrow  money 
from  his  officers  to  pay  his  soldiers. 


JULIUS  CAESAR  117 

propose.  Caesar  having  discovered  his  intention,  after  spend- 
ing several  days  to  no  purpose,  left  the  city,  in  order  that  he 
might  not  lose  any  more  time,  and  went  to  Transalpine  Gaul, 
without  effecting  what  he  had  intended. 

[The  narrative  moves  along  in  a  leisurely  fashion  till  it 
comes  to  the  final  battle  and  overthrow  of  Pompey,  which  took 
place  at  Pharsalia  in  western  Asia.] 

When  Caesar  thought  he  had  sufficiently  sounded  the  dis- 
position of  his  troops,  he  thought  that  he  ought  to  try  whether 
Pompey  had  any  intention  or  inclination  to  come  to  a  battle. 
Accordingly  he  led  his  troops  out  of  the  camp,  and  ranged 
them  in  order  of  battle,  at  first  on  their  own  ground,  and  at  a 
small  distance  from  Pompey 's  camp:  but  afterward  for  sev- 
eral days  in  succession,  he  advanced  from  his  own  camp,  and 
led  them  up  to  the  hills  on  which  Pompey 's  troops  were 
posted,  which  conduct  inspired  his  army  every  day  with  fresh 
courage.  However  he  adhered  to  his  former  purpose  respect- 
ing his  cavalry,  for  as  he  was  by  many  degrees  inferior  in 
number,  he  selected  the  youngest  and  most  active  of  the  ad- 
vanced guard,  and  desired  them  to  fight  intermixed  with  the 
horse,  and  they  by  constant  practice  acquired  experience  in 
this  kind  of  battle.  By  these  means  it  was  brought  to  pass 
that  a  thousand  of  his  horse  would  dare  even  on  open  ground, 
to  stand  against  seven  thousand  of  Pompey 's,  if  occasion 
required,  and  would  not  be  much  terrified  by  their  number. 
For  even  on  one  of  those  days  he  was  successful  in  a  cavalry 
action,  and  killed  one  of  the  two  Allobrogians,  who  had  de- 
serted to  Pompey,  as  we  before  observed,  and  several  others. 

Pompey,  because  he  was  encamped  on  a  hill,  drew  up  his 
army  at  the  very  foot  of  it,  ever  in  expectation,  as  may  be 
conjectured,  that  Caesar  would  expose  himself  to  this  disad- 
vantageous situation.  Caesar,  seeing  no  likelihood  of  being 
able  to  bring  Pompey  to  an  action,  judged  it  the  most  expedi- 
ent method  of  conducting  the  war,  to  decamp  from  that  post 
and  to  be  always  in  motion :  with  this  hope,  that  by  shifting 
his  camp  arid  removing  from  place  to  place,  he  might  be  more 
conveniently  supplied  with  corn,  and  also,  that  by  being  in 
motion  he  might  get  some  opportunity  of  forcing  them  to 
battle,  and  might  by  constant  marches  harass  Pompey 's  army, 
which  was  not  accustomed  to  fatigue.  These  matters  being 


118  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

settled,  when  the  signal  for  marching  was  given,  and  the  tents 
struck,  it  was  observed  that  shortly  before,  contrary  to  his 
daily  practice,  Porapey's  army  had  advanced  further  than 
usual  from  his  intrenchments,  so  that  it  appeared  possible 
to  come  to  an  action  on  equal  ground.  Then  Caesar  addressed 
himself  to  his  soldiers,  when  they  were  at  the  gates  of  the 
camp,  ready  to  march  out.  "We  must  defer,"  says  he,  "our 
march  at  present,  and  set  our  thoughts  on  battle,  which  has 
been  our  constant  wish ;  let  us  then  meet  the  foe  with  resolute 
souls.  We  shall  not  hereafter  easily  find  such  an  oppor- 
tunity." He  immediately  marched  out  at  the  head  of  his 
troops. 

Pompey  also,  as  was  afterward  known,  at  the  unanimous 
solicitation  of  his  friends,  had  determined  to  try  the  fate  of  a 
battle.  For  he  had  even  declared  in  council  a  few  days  be- 
fore that,  before  the  battalions  came  to  battle,  Caesar's  army 
would  be  put  to  the  rout.  When  most  people  expressed  their 
surprise  at  it,  "I  know,"  says  he,  "that  I  promise  a  thing 
almost  incredible ;  but  hear  the  plan  on  which  I  proceed,  that 
you  may  march  to  battle  with  more  confidence  and  resolution. 
I  have  persuaded  our  cavalry,  and  they  have  engaged  to  exe- 
cute it,  as  soon  as  the  two  armies  have  met,  to  attack  Caesar's 
right  wing  on  the  flank,  and  inclosing  their  army  on  the  rear, 
throw  them  into  disorder,  and  put  them  to  the  rout,  before 
we  shall  throw  a  weapon  against  the  enemy.  By  this  means 
we  shall  put  an  end  to  the  war,  without  endangering  the 
legions,  and  almost  without  a  blow.  Nor  is  this  a  difficult 
matter,  as  we  far  outnumber  them  in  cavalry."  At  the  same 
time  he  gave  them  notice  to  be  ready  for  battle  on  the  day 
following,  and  since  the  opportunity  which  they  had  so  often 
wished  for  was  now  arrived,  not  to  disappoint  the  opinion 
generally  entertained  of  their  experience  and  valor. 

After  him  Labienus  spoke,  as  well  to  express  his  contempt 
of  Caesar's  forces,  as  to  extol  Pompey 's  scheme  with  the  high- 
est encomiums.  "Think  not,  Pompey,"  says  he,  "that  this  is 
the  army  which  conquered  Gaul  and  Germany ;  I  was  present 
at  all  those  battles,  and  do  not  speak  at  random  on  a  subject 
to  which  I  am  a  stranger:  a  very  small  part  of  that  army  now 
remains,  great  numbers  lost  their  lives,  as  must  necessarily 
happen  in  so  many  battles,  many  fell  victims  to  the  autumnal 


JULIUS  CJESAR  119 

pestilence  in  Italy,  many  returned  home,  and  many  were  left 
behind  on  the  continent.  Have  you  not  heard  that  the  cohorts 
at  Brundusium  are  composed  of  invalids?  The  forces  which 
you  now  behold,  have  been  recruited  by  levies  lately  made  in 
Hither  Spain,  and  the  greater  part  from  the  colonies  beyond 
the  Po ;  moreover,  the  flower  of  the  forces  perished  in  the  two 
engagements  at  Dyrrachium."  Having  so  said,  he  took  an 
oath,  never  to  return  to  his  camp  unless  victorious;  and  he 
encouraged  the  rest  to  do  the  like.  Pompey  applauded  his 
proposal,  and  took  the  same  oath ;  nor  did  any  person  present 
hesitate  to  take  it.  After  this  had  passed  in  the  council  they 
broke  up  full  of  hopes  and  joy,  and  in  imagination  anticipated 
victory ;  because  they  thought  that  in  a  matter  of  such  impor- 
tance, no  groundless  assertion  could  be  made  by  a  general  of 
such  experience. 

When  Caesar  had  approached  near  Pompey 's  camp,  he  ob- 
served that  his  army  was  drawn  up  in  the  following  manner: 
— On  the  left  wing  were  the  two  legions,  delivered  over  by 
Caesar  at  the  beginning  of  the  disputes  in  compliance  with  the 
senate's  decree,  one  of  which  was  called  the  first,  the  other 
the  third.  Here  Pompey  commanded  in  person.  Scipio  with 
the  Syrian  legions  commanded  the  center.  The  Cilician  legion 
in  conjunction  with  the  Spanish  cohorts,  which  we  said  were 
brought  over  by  Afranius,  were  disposed  on  the  right  wing. 
These  Pompey  considered  his  steadiest  troops.  The  rest  he 
had  interspersed  between  the  center  and  the  wing,  and  he  had 
a  hundred  and  ten  complete  cohorts ;  these  amounted  to  forty- 
five  thousand  men.  He  had  besides  two  cohorts  of  volunteers, 
who  having  received  favors  from  him  in  former  wars,  flocked 
to  his  standard :  these  were  dispersed  through  his  whole  army. 
The  seven  remaining  cohorts  he  had  disposed  to  protect  his 
camp,  and  the  neighboring  forts.  His  right  wing  was  secured 
by  a  river  with  steep  banks;  for  which  reason  he  placed  all 
his  cavalry,  archers,  and  slingers,  on  his  left  wing. 

Cgesar,  observing  his  former  custom,  had  placed  the  tenth 
legion  on  the  right,  the  ninth  on  the  left,  although  it  was 
very  much  weakened  by  the  battles  at  Dyrrachium.  He  placed 
the  eighth  legion  so  close  to  the  ninth,  as  to  almost  make  one 
of  the  two,  and  ordered  them  to  support  one  another.  He 
drew  up  on  the  field  eighty  cohorts,  making  a  total  of  twenty- 


120  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

two  thousand  men.  He  left  two  cohorts  to  guard  the  camp. 
He  gave  the  command  of  the  left  wing  to  Antonius,  of  the 
right  to  P.  Sulla,  and  of  the  center  to  Cn.  Domitius :  he  himself 
took  his  post  opposite  Pompey.  At  the  same  time,  fearing, 
from  the  disposition  of  the  enemy  which  we  have  previously 
mentioned,  lest  his  right  wing  might  be  surrounded  by  their 
numerous  cavalry,  he  rapidly  drafted  a  single  cohort  from 
each  of  the  legions  composing  the  third  line,  formed  of  them  a 
fourth  line,  and  opposed  them  to  Pompey 's  cavalry,  and, 
acquainting  them  with  his  wishes,  admonished  them  that  the 
success  of  that  day  depended  on  their  courage.  At  the  same 
time  he  ordered  the  third  line,  and  the  entire  army  not  to 
charge  without  his  command:  that  he  would  give  the  signal 
whenever  he  wished  them  to  do  so. 

When  he  was  exhorting  his  army  to  battle,  according  to 
the  military  custom,  and  spoke  to  them  of  the  favors  that 
they  had  constantly  received  from  him,  he  took  especial  care 
to  remind  them  "that  he  could  call  his  soldiers  to  witness  the 
earnestness  with  which  he  had  sought  peace,  the  efforts  that 
he  had  made  by  Vatinius  to  gain  a  conference  [with  Labie- 
nus],  and  likewise  by  Claudius  to  treat  with  Scipio,  in  what 
manner  he  had  exerted  himself  at  Oricum,  to  gain  permission 
from  Libo  to  send  ambassadors;  that  he  had  been  always  re- 
luctant to  shed  the  blood  of  his  soldiers,  and  did  not  wish  to 
deprive  the  republic  of  one  or  other  of  her  armies."  After 
delivering  this  speech,  he  gave  by  a  trumpet  the  signal  to  his 
soldiers,  who  were  eagerly  demanding  it,  and  were  very  im- 
patient for  the  onset. 

There  was  in  Caesar's  army,  a  volunteer  of  the  name  of 
Crastinus,  who  the  year  before  had  been  first  centurion  of 
the  tenth  legion,  a  man  of  preeminent  bravery.  He,  when 
the  signal  was  given,  says,  "Follow  me,  my  old  comrades,  and 
display  such  exertions  in  behalf  of  your  general  as  you  have 
determined  to  do :  this  is  our  last  battle,  and  when  it  shall  be 
won,  he  will  recover  his  dignity,  and  we  our  liberty."  At  the 
same  time  he  looked  back  to  Caesar,  and  said,  "General,  I  will 
act  in  such  a  manner  to-day,  that  you  will  feel  grateful  to  me 
living  or  dead."  After  uttering  these  words  he  charged  first 
on  the  right  wing,  and  about  one  hundred  and  twenty  chosen 
volunteers  of  the  same  century  followed. 


JULIUS  CLESAR  121 

There  was  so  much  space  left  between  the  two  lines,  as 
sufficed  for  the  onset  of  the  hostile  armies :  but  Pompey  had 
ordered  his  soldiers  to  await  Caesar's  attack,  and  not  to  ad- 
vance from  their  position,  or  suffer  their  line  to  be  put  into 
disorder.  And  he  is  said  to  have  done  this  by  the  advice  of 
Caius  Triarius,  that  the  impetuosity  of  the  charge  of  Caesar's 
soldiers  might  be  checked,  and  their  line  broken,  and  that 
Pompey 's  troops  remaining  in  their  ranks,  might  attack  them 
while  in  disorder;  and  he  thought  that  the  javelins  would  fall 
with  less  force  if  the  soldiers  were  kept  in  their  ground,  than 
if  they  met  them  in  their  course ;  at  the  same  time  he  trusted 
that  Caesar's  soldiers,  after  running  over  double  the  usual 
ground,  would  become  weary  and  exhausted  by  the  fatigue. 
But  to  me  Pompey  seems  to  have  acted  without  sufficient 
reason:  for  there  is  a  certain  impetuosity  of  spirit  and  an 
alacrity  implanted  by  nature  in  the  hearts  of  all  men,  which 
is  inflamed  by  a  desire  to  meet  the  foe.  This  a  general  should 
endeavor  not  to  repress,  but  to  increase;  nor  was  it  a  vain 
institution  of  our  ancestors,  that  the  trumpets  should  sound 
on  all  sides,  and  a  general  shout  be  raised;  by  which  they 
imagined  that  the  enemy  were  struck  with  terror,  and  their 
own  army  inspired  with  courage. 

But  our  men,  when  the  signal  was  given,  rushed  forward 
with  their  javelins  ready  to  be  launched,  but  perceiving  that 
Pompey 's  men  did  not  run  to  meet  their  charge,  having  ac- 
quired experience  by  custom,  and  being  practiced  in  former 
battles,  they  of  their  own  accord  repressed  their  speed,  and 
halted  almost  midway,  that  they  might  not  come  up  with  the 
enemy  when  their  strength  was  exhausted,  and  after  a  short 
respite  they  again  renewed  their  course,  and  threw  their  jave- 
lins, and  instantly  drew  their  swords,  as  Caesar  had  ordered 
them.  Nor  did  Pompey 's  men  fail  in  this  crisis,  for  they 
received  our  javelins,  stood  our  charge,  and  maintained  their 
ranks;  and  having  launched  their  javelins,  had  recourse  to 
their  swords.  At  the  same  time  Pompey 's  horse,  according 
to  their  orders,  rushed  out  at  once  from  his  left  wing,  and  his 
whole  host  of  archers  poured  after  them.  Our  cavalry  did 
not  withstand  their  charge:  but  gave  ground  a  little,  upon 
which  Pompey 's  horse  pressed  them  more  vigorously,  and 
began  to  file  off  in  troops,  and  flank  our  army.  When  Caesar 


122  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

perceived  this,  he  gave  the  signal  to  his  fourth  line,  which  he 
had  formed  of  the  six  cohorts.  They  instantly  rushed  forward 
and  charged  Pompey's  horse  with  such  fury,  that  not  a  man 
of  them  stood ;  but  all  wheeling  about,  not  only  quitted  their 
post,  but  galloped  forward  to  seek  a  refuge  in  the  highest 
mountains.  By  their  retreat  the  archers  and  slingers,  being 
left  destitute  and  defenseless,  were  all  cut  to  pieces.  The 
cohorts,  pursuing  their  success,  wheeled  about  upon  Pompey's 
left  wing,  while  his  infantry  still  continued  to  make  battle, 
and  attacked  them  in  the  rear. 

At  the  same  time  Caesar  ordered  his  third  line  to  advance, 
which  till  then  had  not  been  engaged,  but  had  kept  their 
post.  Thus,  new  and  fresh  troops  having  come  to  the  as- 
sistance of  the  fatigued,  and  others  having  made  an  attack 
on  their  rear,  Pompey's  men  were  not  able  to  maintain  their 
ground,  but  all  fled,8  nor  was  Caesar  deceived  in  his  opinion, 
that  the  victory,  as  he  had  declared  in  his  speech  to  his  sol- 
diers, must  have  its  beginning  from  those  six  cohorts,  which 
he  had  placed  as  a  fourth  line  to  oppose  the  horse.  For  by 
them  the  cavalry  were  routed ;  by  them  the  archers  and  sling- 
ers were  cut  to  pieces;  by  them  the  left  wing  of  Pompey's 
army  was  surrounded,  and  obliged  to  be  the  first  to  flee.  But 
when  Pompey  saw  his  cavalry  routed,  and  that  part  of  his 
army  on  which  he  reposed  his  greatest  hopes  thrown  into 
confusion,  despairing  of  the  rest,  he  quitted  the  field,  and 
retreated  straightway  on  horseback  to  his  camp,  and  calling  to 
the  centurions,  whom  he  had  placed  to  guard  the  praetorian 
gate,  with  a  loud  voice,  that  the  soldiers  might  hear :  ' '  Secure 
the  camp,"  says  he,  "defend  it  with  diligence,  if  any  danger 
should  threaten  it;  I  will  visit  the  other  gates,  and  encourage 
the  guards  of  the  camp."  Having  thus  said,  he  retired  into 
his  tent  in  utter  despair,  yet  anxiously  waiting  the  issue. 

Caesar  having  forced  the  Pompeians  to  flee  into  their 
intrenchment,  and  thinking  that  he  ought  not  to  allow  them 
any  respite  to  recover  from  their  fright,  exhorted  his  soldiers 
to  take  advantage  of  fortune's  kindness,  and  to  attack  the 
camp.  Though  they  were  fatigued  by  the  intense  heat,  for 

'Historians  state  that  Caesar  on  this  occasion  advised  his  soldiers  to 
aim  at  the  faces  of  Pompey's  cavalry,  who,  being  composed  principally 
of  the  young  noblemen  of  Rome,  dreaded  a  scar  in  the  face  more  than 
death  itself. 


JULIUS  CLESAR 

the  battle  had  continued  till  mid-day,  yet,  being  prepared  to 
undergo  any  labor,  they  cheerfully  obeyed  his  command.  The 
camp  was  bravely  defended  by  the  cohorts  which  had  been  left 
to  guard  it,  but  with  much  more  spirit  by  the  Thracians  and 
foreign  auxiliaries.  For  the  soldiers  who  had  fled  for  refuge 
to  it  from  the  field  of  battle,  affrighted  and  exhausted  by 
fatigue,  having  thrown  away  their  arms  and  military  stand- 
ards, had  their  thoughts  more  engaged  on  their  further  escape 
than  on  the  defense  of  the  camp.  Nor  could  the  troops  who 
were  posted  on  the  battlements,  long  withstand  the  immense 
number  of  our  darts,  but  fainting  under  their  wounds,  quitted 
the  place,  and  under  the  conduct  of  their  centurions  and 
tribunes,  fled,  without  stopping,  to  the  high  mountains  which 
joined  the  camp. 

In  Pompey's  camp  you  might  see  arbors  in  which  tables 
were  laid,  a  large  quantity  of  plate  set  out,  the  floors  of  the 
tents  covered  with  fresh  sods,  the  tents  of  Lucius  Lentulus 
and  others  shaded  with  ivy,  and  many  other  things  which  were 
proofs  of  excessive  luxury,  and  a  confidence  of  victory,  so 
that  it  might  readily  be  inferred  that  they  had  no  apprehen- 
sions of  the  issue  of  the  day,  as  they  indulged  themselves  in 
unnecessary  pleasures,  and  yet  upbraided  with  luxury  Caesar's 
army,  distressed  and  suffering  troops,  who  had  always  been  in 
want  of  common  necessaries.  Pompey,  as  soon  as  our  men 
had  forced  the  trenches,  mounting  his  horse,  and  stripping  off 
his  general's  habit,  went  hastily  out  of  the  back  gate  of  the 
camp,  and  galloped  with  all  speed  to  Larissa.  Nor  did  he  stop 
there,  but  with  the  same  dispatch,  collecting  a  few  of  his  flying 
troops,  and  halting  neither  day  nor  night,  he  arrived  at  the 
seaside,  attended  by  only  thirty  horse,  and  went  on  board  a 
victualing  bark,  often  complaining,  as  we  have  been  told, 
that  he  had  been  so  deceived  in  his  expectation,  that  he  was 
almost  persuaded  that  he  had  been  betrayed  by  those  from 
whom  he  had  expected  victory,  as  they  began  the  fight. 

Caesar  having  possessed  himself  of  Pompey's  camp,  urged 
his  soldiers  not  to  be  too  intent  on  plunder,  and  lose  the  op- 
portunity of  completing  their  conquest.  Having  obtained 
their  consent,  he  began  to  draw  lines  round  the  mountain. 
The  Pompeians  distrusting  the  position,  as  there  was  no  water 
on  the  mountain,  abandoned  it,  and  all  began  to  retreat  to- 


LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

ward  Larissa;  which  Caesar  perceiving,  divided  his  troops, 
and  ordering  part  of  his  legions  to  remain  in  Pompey  's  camp, 
sent  back  a  part  of  his  own  camp,  and  taking  four  legions  with 
him,  went  by  a  shorter  road  to  intercept  the  enemy:  and 
having  marched  six  miles,  drew  up  his  army.  But  the  Pom- 
peians  observing  this,  took  post  on  a  mountain,  whose  foot  was 
washed  by  a  river.  Caesar  having  encouraged  his  troops, 
though  they  were  greatly  exhausted  by  incessant  labor  the 
whole  day,  and  night  was  now  approaching,  by  throwing  up 
works  cut  off  the  communication  between  the  river  and  the 
mountain,  that  the  enemy  might  not  get  water  in  the  night. 
As  soon  as  the  work  was  finished,  they  sent  ambassadors  to 
treat  about  a  capitulation.  A  few  senators  who  had  espoused 
that  party,  made  their  escape  by  night. 

At  break  of  day,  Caesar  ordered  all  those  who  had  taken 
post  on  the  mountain,  to  come  down  from  the  higher  grounds 
into  the  plain,  and  pile  their  arms.  "When  they  did  this 
without  refusal,  and  with  outstretched  arms,  prostrating 
themselves  on  the  ground,  with  tears,  implored  his  mercy :  he 
comforted  them  and  bade  them  rise,  and  having  spoken  a  few 
words  of  his  own  clemency  to  alleviate  their  fears,  he  par- 
doned them  all,  and  gave  orders  to  his  soldiers,  that  no  injury 
should  be  done  to  them,  and  nothing  taken  from  them.  Hav- 
ing used  this  diligence,  he  ordered  the  legions  in  his  camp 
to  come  and  meet  him,  and  those  which  were  with  him  to  take 
their  turn  of  rest,  and  go  back  to  the  camp :  and  the  same  day 
went  to  Larissa. 

In  that  battle,  no  more  than  two  hundred  privates  were 
missing,  but  Csesar  lost  about  thirty  centurions,  valiant  offi- 
cers. Crastinus,  also,  of  whom  mention  was  made  before, 
fighting  most  courageously,  lost  his  life  by  the  wound  of  a 
sword  in  the  mouth ;  nor  was  that  false  which  he  declared 
when  marching  to  battle:  for  Ca?sar  entertained  the  highest 
opinion  of  his  behavior  in  that  battle,  and  thought  him  highly 
deserving  of  his  approbation.  Of  Pompey 's  army,  there  fell 
about  fifteen  thousand ;  but  upwards  of  twenty-four  thousand 
were  made  prisoners:  for  even  the  cohorts  which  were  sta- 
tioned in  the  forts,  surrendered  to  Sylla.  Several  others  took 
shelter  in  the  neighboring  states.  One  hundred  and  eighty 
stands  of  colors,  and  nine  eagles,  were  brought  to  Cassar. 


JULIUS  CJESAR  125 

THE  OVERTHROW  OF  THE   GALLIC  NATION  OP  THE   NERVH,1  FROM 
COMMENTARIES  ON  THE   GALLIC  WARS" 


THE  Nervii,  from  early  times,  because  they  were  weak  in 
cavalry,  (for  not  even  at  this  time  do  they  attend  to  it,  but 
accomplish  by  their  infantry  whatever  they  can,)  in  order 
that  they  might  the  more  easily  obstruct  the  cavalry  of  their 
neighbors  if  they  came  upon  them  for  the  purpose  of  plunder- 
ing, cut  young  trees,  and  bent  them  by  means  of  their  numer- 
ous branches  extending  on  to  the  sides,  and  the  quick-briars 
and  thorns  springing  up  between  them,  they  made  these 
hedges  present  a  fortification  like  a  wall,  through  which  it 
was  not  only  impossible  to  enter,  but  even  to  penetrate  with 
the  eye.  Since  [therefore]  the  march  of  our  army  would  be 
obstructed  by  these  things,  the  Nervii  thought  that  the  chance 
ought  not  to  be  neglected  by  them. 

The  nature  of  the  ground  which  our  men  had  chosen  for 
their  camp  was  this:  A  hill,  declining  evenly  from  the  top, 
extending  to  the  river  Sambre  :  from  this  river  there  arose  a 
second  hill  of  like  ascent,  on  the  other  side  and  opposite  to  the 
former,  and  open  for  about  200  paces  at  the  lower  part,  but 
in  the  upper  part,  woody,  so  much  so  that  it  was  not  easy  to 
see  through  it  into  the  interior.  Within  these  woods  the  enemy 
kept  themselves  in  concealment  ;  a  few  troops  of  horse-soldiers 
appeared  on  the  open  ground,  along  the  river.  The  depth  of 
the  river  was  about  three  feet. 

Caesar,  having  sent  his  cavalry  on  before,  followed  close 
after  them  with  all  his  forces  ;  but  the  plan  and  order  of  the 
inarch  was  different  from  that  which  had  been  reported  to 
the  Nervii.  For  as  he  was  approaching  the  enemy,  Caesar, 
according  to  his  custom,  led  on  as  the  van  six  legions  unen- 
cumbered by  baggage;  behind  them  he  had  placed  the  bag- 
gage-trains of  the  whole  army;  then  the  two  legions  which 
had  been  last  raised  closed  the  rear,  and  were  a  guard  for  the 
baggage  train.  Our  horse,  with  the  slingers  and  archers, 
having  passed  the  river,  commenced  action  with  the  cavalry 
of  the  enemy.  While  they  from  time  to  time  betook  themselves 

1  This  description  has  been  here  added  as  being  perhaps  Caesar  's  most 
desperate  battle  and  one  in  which  he  describes  himself  as  taking  a  vig- 
orous personal  part. 


126  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

into  the  woods  to  their  companions,  and  again  made  an  as- 
sault out  of  the  wood  upon  our  men,  who  did  not  dare  to 
follow  them  in  their  retreat  further  than  the  limit  to  which 
the  plain  and  open  parts  extended,  in  the  meantime  the  six 
legions  which  had  arrived  first,  having  measured  out  the  work, 
began  to  fortify  the  camp.  When  the  first  part  of  the  bag- 
gage train  of  our  army  was  seen  by  those  who  lay  hid  in  the 
woods,  which  had  been  agreed  on  among  them  as  the  time  for 
commencing  action,  as  soon  as  they  had  arranged  their  line 
of  battle  and  formed  their  ranks  within  the  woods,  and  had 
encouraged  one  another,  they  rushed  out  suddenly  with  all 
their  forces  and  made  an  attack  upon  our  horse.  The  latter 
being  easily  routed  and  thrown  into  confusion,  the  Nervii 
ran  down  to  the  river  with  such  incredible  speed  that  they 
seemed  to  be  in  the  woods,  the  river,  and  close  upon  us  almost 
at  the  same  time.  And  with  the  same  speed  they  hastened 
up  the  hill  to  our  camp,  and  to  those  who  were  employed  in 
the  works.  . 

Caesar  had  everything  to  do  at  one  time :  the  standard  to  be 
displayed,  which  was  the  sign  when  it  was  necessary  to  run 
to  arms;  the  signal  to  be  given  by  the  trumpet;  the  soldiers 
to  be  called  off  from  the  works ;  those  who  had  proceeded  some 
distance  for  the  purpose  of  seeking  materials  for  the  rampart, 
to  be  summoned ;  the  order  of  battle  to  be  formed ;  the  soldiers 
to  be  encouraged;  the  watchword  to  be  given.  A  great  part 
of  these  arrangements  was  prevented  by  the  shortness  of  time 
and  the  sudden  approach  and  charge  of  the  enemy.  Under 
these  difficulties  two  things  proved  of  advantage;  first  the 
skill  and  experience  of  the  soldiers,  because,  having  been 
trained  by  former  engagements,  they  could  suggest  to  them- 
selves what  ought  to  be  done,  as  conveniently  as  receive  in- 
formation from  others;  and  secondly  that  Ca?sar  had  forbid- 
den his  several  lieutenants  to  depart  from  the  works  and  their 
respective  legions,  before  the  camp  was  fortified.  These,  on 
account  of  the  near  approach  and  the  speed  of  the  enemy,  did 
not  then  wait  for  any  command  from  Ca?sar,  but  of  themselves 
executed  whatever  appeared  proper. 

Caesar,  having  given  the  necessary  orders,  hastened  to  and 
fro  into  whatever  quarter  fortune  carried  him,  to  animate  the 
troops,  and  came  to  the  tenth  legion.  Having  encouraged  the 


JULIUS  CJESAR  127 

soldiers  with  no  further  speech  than  that  "they  should  keep 
up  the  remembrance  of  their  wonted  valor,  and  not  be  con- 
fused in  mind,  but  valiantly  sustain  the  assault  of  the  en- 
emy;" as  the  latter  were  not  further  from  them  than  the 
distance  to  which  a  dart  could  be  cast,  he  gave  the  signal  for 
commencing  battle.  And  having  gone  to  another  quarter  for 
the  purpose  of  encouraging  [the  soldiers],  he  finds  them  fight- 
ing. Such  was  the  shortness  of  the  time,  and  so  determined 
was  the  mind  of  the  enemy  on  fighting,  that  time  was  wanting 
not  only  for  affixing  the  military  insignia,2  but  even  for  put- 
ting on  the  helmets 3  and  drawing  off  the  covers  from  the 
shields.4  To  whatever  part  any  one  by  chance  came  from 
the  works  (in  which  he  had  been  employed),  and  whatever 
standards  he  saw  first,  at  these  he  stood,  lest  in  seeking  his 
own  company  he  should  lose  the  time  for  fighting. 

The  army  having  been  marshaled,  rather  as  the  nature  of 
the  ground  and  the  declivity  of  the  hill  and  the  exigency  of 
the  time,  than  as  the  method  and  order  of  military  matters 
required ;  while  the  legions  in  the  different  places  were  with- 
standing the  enemy,  some  in  one  quarter,  some  in  another, 
and  the  view  was  obstructed  by  the  very  thick  hedges  inter- 
vening, as  we  have  before  remarked,  neither  could  proper 
reserves  be  posted,  nor  could  the  necessary  measures  be  taken 
in  each  part,  nor  could  all  the  commands  be  issued  by  one 
person.  Therefore,  in  such  an  unfavorable  state  of  affairs, 
various  events  of  fortune  followed. 

The  soldiers  of  the  ninth  and  tenth  legions,  as  they  had 
been  stationed  on  the  left  part  of  the  army,  casting  their 
weapons,  speedily  drove  the  Atrebates  (for  that  division  had 
been  opposed  to  them,)  who  were  breathless  with  running 
and  fatigue,  and  worn  out  with  wounds,  from  the  higher 
ground  into  the  river;  and  following  them  as  they  were  en- 
deavoring to  pass  it,  slew  with  their  swords  a  great  part  of 

'"Insignia"  here  means  those  ornaments  and  badges  of  distinction 
worn  by  the  Roman  soldiers:  probably  it  here  refers  especially  to  the 
devices  upon  the  helmets. 

*  It  was  the  practice  of  the  Roman  soldiers  when  on  the  march  not  to 
wear  their  helmets,  but  to  carry  them  slung  over  their  backs,  or  chests. 

4  As  the  shields  of  the  soldiers,  even  at  that  period,  were  embellished 
with  curious  and  expensive  ornaments,  they  kept  them,  when  either  in 
camp  or  on  the  march,  covered  with  leather,  as  a  defense  against  the 
dust  or  rain. 


1»8  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

them  while  impeded  therein.  They  themselves  did  not  hesi- 
tate to  pass  the  river ;  and  having  advanced  to  a  disadvanta- 
geous place,  when  the  battle  was  renewed,  they  nevertheless 
again  put  to  flight  the  enemy,  who  had  returned  and  were 
opposing  them.  In  like  manner,  in  another  quarter  two  dif- 
ferent legions,  the  eleventh  and  the  eighth,  having  routed  the 
Veromandui,  with  whom  they  had  engaged,  were  fighting 
from  the  higher  ground  upon  the  very  banks  of  the  river. 
But,  almost  the  whole  camp  on  the  front  and  on  the  left  side 
being  then  exposed,  since  the  twelfth  legion  was  posted  in  the 
right  wing,  and  the  seventh  at  no  great  distance  from  it,  all 
the  Nervii,  in  a  very  close  body,  with  Boduognatus,  who  held 
the  chief  command,  as  their  leader,  hastened  toward  that 
place;  and  part  of  them  began  to  surround  the  legions  on 
their  unprotected  flank,  part  to  make  for  the  highest  point  of 
the  encampment. 

At  the  same  time  our  horsemen,  and  light-armed  infantry, 
who  had  been  with  those,  who,  as  I  have  related,  were  routed 
by  the  first  assault  of  the  enemy,  as  they  were  betaking  them- 
selves into  the  camp,  met  the  enemy  face  to  face,  and  again 
sought  flight  into  another  quarter ;  and  the  camp-followers 5 
who  from  the  Decuman  Gate,6  and  from  the  highest  ridge  of 
the  hill  had  seen  our  men  pass  the  river  as  victors,  when, 
after  going  out  for  the  purposes  of  plundering,  they  looked 
back  and  saw  the  enemy  parading  in  our  camp,  committed 
themselves  precipitately  to  flight ;  at  the  same  time  there  arose 
the  cry  and  shout  of  those  who  came  with  the  baggage-train : 
and  they  (affrighted),  were  carried  some  one  way,  some  an- 
other. By  all  these  circumstances  the  cavalry  of  the  Treviri 
were  much  alarmed,  (whose  reputation  for  courage  is  ex- 
traordinary among  the  Gauls,  and  who  had  come  to  Caesar, 
being  sent  by  their  state  as  auxiliaries),  and,  when  they  saw 
our  camp  filled  with  a  large  number  of  the  enemy,  the  legions 
hard  pressed  and  almost  held  surrounded,  the  camp-retainers, 
horsemen,  slingers,  and  Numidians  fleeing  on  all  sides  divided 

*  These  calones,  it  is  generally  supposed,  were  slaves.  From  continual 
attendance  upon  the  army  they  arrived  at  a  considerable  degree  of  skill 
in  military  matters. 

•The  Roman  camp  had  four  gates:  "porta  pr&toria,"  nearest  to  the 
enemy;  "porta  Decumana,"  opposite  to  that,  and  thus  furthest  from 
them;  "porta  principals  dextra,"  and  "porta  principal™  sinistra." 


JULIUS  CLESAR  129 

and  scattered,  they,  despairing  of  our  affairs,  hastened  home, 
and  related  to  their  state  that  the  Romans  were  routed  and 
conquered,  [and]  that  the  enemy  were  in  possession  of  their 
camp  and  baggage-train. 

Ctesar  proceeded,  after  encouraging  the  tenth  legion,  to  the 
right  wing;  where  he  perceived  that  his  men  were  hard 
pressed,  and  that  in  consequence  of  the  standards  of  the 
twelfth  legion  being  collected  together  in  one  place,  the 
crowded  soldiers  were  a  hindrance  to  themselves  in  the  fight ; 
that  all  the  centurions  of  the  fourth  cohort  were  slain,  and 
the  standard-bearer  killed,  the  standard  7  itself  lost,  almost  all 
the  centurions  of  the  other  cohorts  either  wounded  or  slain 
and  among  them  the  chief  centurion  of  the  legion  P.  Sextius 
Baculus,  a  very  valiant  man,  who  was  so  exhausted  by  many 
and  severe  wounds,  that  he  was  already  unable  to  support 
himself;  he  likewise  perceived  that  the  rest  were  slackening 
their  efforts,  and  that  some,  deserted  by  those  in  the  rear, 
were  retiring  from  the  battle  and  avoiding  the  weapons ;  that 
the  enemy  on  the  other  hand  though  advancing  from  the 
lower  ground,  were  not  relaxing  in  front,  and  were  at  the 
same  time  pressing  hard  on  both  flanks;  he  also  perceived 
that  the  affair  was  at  a  crisis,  and  that  there  was  not  any 
reserve  which  could  be  brought  up ;  having  therefore  snatched 
a  shield  from  one  of  the  soldiers  in  the  rear  (for  he  himself 
had  come  without  a  shield),  he  advanced  to  the  front  of  the 
line,  and  addressing  the  centurions  by  name,  and  encouraging 
the  rest  of  the  soldiers,  he  ordered  them  to  carry  forward  the 
standards,  and  extend  the  companies,  that  they  might  the  more 
easily  use  their  swords.  On  his  arrival,  as  hope  was  brought 
to  the  soldiers  and  their  courage  restored,  while  every  one 
for  his  own  part,  in  the  sight  of  his  general,  desired  to  exert 
his  utmost  energy,  the  impetuosity  of  the  enemy  was  a  little 
checked. 

Ceesar,  when  he  perceived  that  the  seventh  legion,  which 
stood  close  by  him,  was  also  hard  pressed  by  the  enemy,  di- 
rected the  tribunes  of  the  soldiers  to  effect  a  junction  of  the 
legions  gradually,  and  make  their  charge  upon  the  enemy 
with  a  double  front ;  which  having  been  done,  since  they 

7  Besides  the  aquila  or  standard  of  the  legion,  there  were  the  subordi- 
nate standards  of  the  cohorts  and  the  manipuli. 
A.  v.  1—9 


130  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

brought  assistance  the  one  to  the  other,  nor  feared  lest  their 
rear  should  be  surrounded  by  the  enemy,  they  began  to  stand 
their  ground  more  boldly,  and  to  fight  more  courageously.  In 
the  meantime,  the  soldiers  of  the  two  legions  which  had  been 
in  the  rear  of  the  army,  as  a  guard  for  the  baggage-train, 
upon  the  battle  being  reported  to  them,  quickened  their  pace, 
and  were  seen  by  the  enemy  on  the  top  of  the  hill ;  and  Titus 
Labienus,  having  gained  possession  of  the  camp  of  the  enemy, 
and  observed  from  the  higher  ground  what  was  going  on  in 
our  camp,  sent  the  tenth  legion  as  a  relief  to  our  men,  who, 
when  they  had  learned  from  the  flight  of  the  horse  and  the 
sutlers  in  what  position  the  affair  was,  and  in  how  great 
danger  the  camp  and  the  legion  and  the  commander  were  in- 
volved, left  undone  nothing  which  tended  to  dispatch. 

By  their  arrival,  so  great  a  change  of  matters  was  made, 
that  our  men,  even  those  who  had  fallen  down  exhausted  with 
wounds,  leaned  on  their  shields,  and  renewed  the  fight:  then 
the  camp-retainers,  though  unarmed,  seeing  the  enemy  com- 
pletely dismayed,  attacked  them  though  armed ;  the  horsemen 
too,  that  they  might  by  their  valor  blot  the  disgrace  of  their 
flight,  thrust  themselves  before  the  legionary  soldiers  in  all 
parts  of  the  battle.  But  the  enemy,  even  in  the  last  hope  of 
safety,  displayed  such  great  courage,  that  when  the  foremost 
of  them  had  fallen,  the  next  stood  upon  them  prostrate,  and 
fought  from  their  bodies;  when  these  were  overthrown,  and 
their  corpses  heaped  up  together,  those  who  survived  cast 
their  weapons  against  our  men  thence,  as  from  a  mound,  and 
returned  our  darts  which  had  fallen  short  between  the  armies; 
so  that  it  ought  not  to  be  concluded,  that  men  of  such  great 
courage  had  injudiciously  dared  to  pass  a  very  broad  river, 
ascend  very  high  banks,  and  come  up  to  a  very  disadvanta- 
geous place ;  since  their  greatness  of  spirit  had  rendered  these 
actions  easy,  although  in  themselves  very  difficult. 

This  battle  being  ended,  and  the  nation  and  name  of  the 
Xervii  being  almost  reduced  to  annihilation,  their  old  men, 
who  together  with  all  the  boys  and  women  were  found  to 
have  been  collected  together  in  the  fenny  places  and  marshes, 
on  this  battle  having  been  reported  to  them,  since  they  were 
convinced  that  nothing  was  an  obstacle  to  the  conquerors, 
and  nothing  safe  to  the  conquered,  sent  ambassadors  to  Caesar 


JULIUS  (LESAR  131 

by  the  consent  of  all  who  remained,  and  surrendered  them- 
selves to  him ;  and  in  recounting  the  calamity  of  their  state, 
said  that  their  senators  were  reduced  from  600  to  three ;  that 
from  60,000  men  they  were  reduced  to  scarcely  500  who  could 
bear  arms;  whom  Caesar,  that  he  might  appear  to  use  com- 
passion toward  the  wretched  and  the  suppliant,  most  carefully 
spared ;  and  ordered  them  to  enjoy  their  own  territories  and 
towns,  and  commanded  their  neighbors  that  they  should  re- 
strain themselves  and  their  dependents  from  offering  injury 
or  outrage  to  them. 

Much  about  the  same  time,  Cassius  arrived  in  Sicily  with 
a  fleet  of  Syrians,  Phrenicians,  and  Cicilians:  and  as  Caesar's 
fleet  was  divided  into  two  parts,  Publius  Sulpicius  the  praetor 
commanding  one  division  at  Vibo  near  the  straits,  Pomponius 
the  other  at  Messana,  Cassius  got  into  Messana  with  his  fleet, 
before  Pomponius  had  notice  of  his  arrival,  and  having  found 
him  in  disorder,  without  guards  or  discipline,  and  the  wind 
being  high  and  favorable,  he  filled  several  transports  with 
fir,  pitch,  and  tow,  and  other  combustibles,  sent  them  against 
Pomponius 's  fleet,  and  set  fire  to  all  his  ships,  thirty-five 
in  number,  twenty  of  which  were  armed  with  beaks :  and  this 
action  struck  such  terror  that  though  there  was  a  legion  in 
garrison  at  Messana,  the  town  with  difficulty  held  out,  and 
had  not  the  news  of  Caesar's  victory  been  brought  at  that 
instant  by  the  horse  stationed  along  the  coast,  it  was  generally 
imagined  that  it  would  have  been  lost,  but  the  town  was  main- 
tained till  the  news  arrived  very  opportunely:  and  Cassius 
set  sail  from  thence  to  attack  Sulpicius 's  fleet  at  Vibo,  and 
our  ships  being  moored  to  the  land,  to  strike  the  same  terror, 
he  acted  in  the  same  manner  as  before.  The  wind  being 
favorable,  he  sent  into  the  port  about  forty  ships  provided 
with  combustibles,  and  the  flame  catching  on  both  sides,  five 
ships  were  burned  to  ashes.  And  when  the  fire  began  to 
spread  wider  by  the  violence  of  the  wind,  the  soldiers  of 
the  veteran  legions,  who  had  been  left  to  guard  the  fleet,  be- 
ing considered  as  invalids,  could  not  endure  the  disgrace,  but 
of  themselves  went  on  board  the  ships  and  weighed  anchor, 
and  having  attacked  Cassius 's  fleet,  captured  two  five-banked 
galleys,  in  one  of  which  was  Cassius  himself;  but  he  made 
his  escape  by  taking  to  a  boat.  Two  three-banked  galleys 


132  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

wore  taken  besides.  Intelligence  was  shortly  after  received 
of  the  action  in  Thessaly,  so  well  authenticated,  that  the  Pom- 
peians  themselves  gave  credit  to  it;  for  they  had  hitherto 
believed  it  a  fiction  of  Caesar's  lieutenants  and  friends.  Upon 
which  intelligence  Cassius  departed  with  his  fleet  from  that 
coast. 

Ciusar  thought  he  ought  to  postpone  all  business  and  pur- 
sue Ponipey,  whithersoever  he  should  retreat ;  that  he  might 
not  be  able  to  provide  fresh  forces,  and  renew  the  war;  he 
therefore  marched  on  every  day,  as  far  as  his  cavalry  were 
able  to  advance,  and  ordered  one  legion  to  follow  him  by 
shorter  journeys.  A  proclamation  was  issued  by  Pompey  at 
Amphipolis,  that  all  the  young  men  of  that  province,  Grecians 
and  Roman  citizens,  should  take  the  military  oath ;  but 
whether  he  issued  it  with  an  intention  of  preventing  suspicion, 
and  to  conceal  as  long  as  possible  his  design  of  fleeing  further, 
or  to  endeavor  to  keep  possession  of  Macedonia  by  new  levies, 
if  nobody  pursued  him,  it  is  impossible  to  judge.  lie  lay  at 
anchor  one  night,  and  calling  together  his  friends  in  Amphip- 
olis, and  collecting  a  sum  of  money  for  his  necessary  ex- 
penses, upon  advice  of  Caesar's  approach,  set  sail  from  that 
place,  and  arrived  in  a  few  days  at  Mitylene.  Here  he  was 
detained  two  days,  and  having  added  a  few  galleys  to  his 
fleet  he  went  to  Cilicia,  and  thence  to  Cyprus.  There  he  is  in- 
formed that,  by  the  consent  of  all  the  inhabitants  of  Antioch  8 
and  Roman  citizens  who  traded  there,  the  castle  had  been 
seized  to  shut  him  out  of  the  town ;  and  that  messengers 
had  been  dispatched  to  all  those  who  were  reported  to  have 
taken  refuge  in  the  neighboring  states,  that  they  should  not 
come  to  Antioch ;  that  if  they  did,  that  it  would  be  attended 
with  imminent  danger  to  their  lives.  The  same  thing  hap- 
pened to  Lucius  Lentulus,  who  had  been  consul  the  year  be- 
fore, and  to  Publius  Lentulus  a  consular  senator,  and  to  sev- 

"Antiochin,  or  Antioch,  now  called  Antnkia,  was  founded  by  Seloucus 
Nicanor,  who  named  it  after  his  father.  Tt  was  not  only  the  capital  of 
Syria,  but  of  all  Asia,  and  was  once  the  third  city  in  the  world  for 
beauty,  size,  and  population;  it  was  the  royal  seat  of  the  Syrian  kings, 
and  after  the  Roman  conquest  became  the  ordinary  residence  of  the 
prefect,  or  governor  of  the  eastern  provinces.  It  was  here  that  the 
disciples  of  Christ  first  received  the  name  of  Christians,  A.D.  39,  having 
been  before  commonly  called  Nazarenes  and  Galila-ans;  it  was  the  birth- 
place of  St.  Luke,  the  evangelist. 


JULIUS  C^SAK  133 

eral  others  at  Rhodes,  who  having  followed  Pompey  in  his 
flight,  and  arrived  at  the  island,  were  not  admitted  into  the 
town  or  port ;  and  having  received  a  message  to  leave  that 
neighborhood,  set  sail  much  against  their  will ;  for  the  rumor 
of  Caesar's  approach  had  now  reached  those  states. 

Pompey,  being  informed  of  these  proceedings,  laid  aside 
his  design  of  going  to  Syria,  and  having  taken  the  public 
money  from  the  farmers  of  the  revenue,  and  borrowed  more 
from  some  private  friends,  and  having  put  on  board  his  ships 
a  large  quantity  of  brass  for  military  purposes,  and  two 
thousand  armed  men,  whom  he  partly  selected  from  the  slaves 
of  the  tax  farmers,  and  party  collected  from  the  merchants, 
and  such  persons  as  each  of  his  friends  thought  fit  on  this 
occasion,  he  sailed  for  Pelusium.  It  happened  that  king 
Ptolemy,  a  minor,  was  there  with  a  considerable  army,  en- 
gaged in  war  with  his  sister  Cleopatra,  whom  a  few  months 
before,  by  the  assistance  of  his  relations  and  friends,  he  had 
expelled  from  the  kingdom ;  and  her  camp  lay  at  a  small  dis- 
tance from  his.  To  him  Pompey  applied  to  be  permitted  to 
take  refuge  in  Alexandria,  and  to  be  protected  in  his  calamity 
by  his  powerful  assistance,  in  consideration  of  the  friendship 
and  amity  which  had  subsisted  between  his  father  and  him. 
But  Pompey 's  deputies  having  executed  their  commission, 
began  to  converse  with  less  restraint  with  the  king's  troops, 
and  to  advise  them  to  act  with  friendship  to  Pompey,  and 
not  to  think  meanly  of  his  bad  fortune.  In  Ptolemy's  army 
were  several  of  Pompey 's  soldiers,  of  whom  Gabinius  had 
received  the  command  in  Syria,  and  had  brought  them  over  to 
Alexandria,  and  at  the  conclusion  of  the  war  had  left  with 
Ptolemy  the  father  of  the  young  king. 

The  king's  friends,  who  were  regents  of  the  kingdom  dur- 
ing the  minority,  being  informed  of  these  things,  either  in- 
duced by  fear,  as  they  afterward  declared,  lest  Pompey  should 
corrupt  the  king's  army,  and  seize  on  Alexandria  and  Egypt; 
or  despising  his  bad  fortune,  as  in  adversity  friends  com- 
monly change  to  enemies,  in  public  gave  a  favorable  answer 
to  his  deputies,  and  desired  him  to  come  to  the  king;  but 
secretly  laid  a  plot  against  him,  and  dispatched  Achillas, 
captain  of  the  king's  guards,  a  man  of  singular  boldness,  and 
Lucius  Septimius  a  military  tribune  to  assassinate  him.  Be- 


LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

ing  kindly  addressed  by  them,  and  deluded  by  an  acquaint- 
ance with  Septiraius,  because  in  the  war  with  the  pirates  the 
latter  had  commanded  a  company  under  him,  he  embarked 
in  a  small  boat  with  a  few  attendants,  and  was  there  mur- 
dered by  Achillas  and  Septimius.  In  like  manner,  Lucius 
Lentulus  was  seized  by  the  king's  order,  and  put  to  death  in 
prison. 

When  Ctesar  arrived  in  Asia,  he  found  that  Titus  Ampius 
had  attempted  to  remove  the  money  from  the  temple  of  Diana 
at  Ephesus;  and  for  this  purpose  had  convened  all  the  sena- 
tors in  the  province  that  he  might  have  them  to  attest  the 
sum,  but  was  interrupted  by  Ca?sar's  arrival,  and  had  made 
his  escape.  Thus,  on  two  occasions,  Cresar  saved  the  money 
of  Ephesus.  It  was  also  remarked  at  Elis,  in  the  temple  of 
Minerva,  upon  calculating  and  enumerating  the  days,  that 
on  the  very  day  on  which  Ca?sar  had  gained  his  battle,  the 
image  of  Victory  which  was  placed  before  Minerva,  and  faced 
her  statue,  turned  about  toward  the  portal  and  entrance  of 
the  temple;  and  the  same  day,  at  Antioch  in  Syria,  such  a 
shout  of  an  army  and  sound  of  trumpets  was  twice  heard 
that  the  citizens  ran  in  arms  to  the  walls.  The  same  thing 
happened  at  Ptoleraais;  a  sound  of  drums  too  was  heard  at 
Pergamus,  in  the  private  and  retired  parts  of  the  temple,  in- 
to which  none  but  the  priests  are  allowed  admission,  and 
which  the  Greeks  call  Adyta  (the  inaccessible),  and  likewise 
at  Tralles,  in  the  temple  of  Victory,  in  which  there  stood  a 
statue  consecrated  to  Caesar;  a  palm-tree  at  that  time  was 
shown  that  had  sprouted  up  from  the  pavement,  through  the 
joints  of  the  stones,  and  shot  up  above  the  roof. 

After  a  few  days'  delay  in  Asia,  Ca?sar,  having  heard  that 
Pompey  had  been  seen  in  Cyprus,  and  conjecturing  that  he 
had  directed  his  course  into  Egypt,  on  account  of  his  connec- 
tion with  that  kingdom,9  set  out  for  Alexandria  with  two 
legions  (one  of  which  he  ordered  to  follow  him  from  Thessaly, 
the  other  he  called  in  from  Achaia,  from  Fufius,  the  lieuten- 
ant general),  and  with  eight  hundred  horse,  ten  ships  of  war 
from  Rhodes,  and  a  few  from  Asia.  These  legions  amounted 
but  to  three  thousand  two  hundred  men ;  the  rest,  disabled 
by  wounds  received  in  various  battles,  by  fatigue  and  the 
*  He  had  been  appointed  by  the  senate,  guardian  to  the  young  king. 


JULIUS  CJESAR  135 

length  of  their  march,  could  not  follow  him.  But  Caesar, 
relying  on  the  fame  of  his  exploits,  did  not  hesitate  to  set 
forward  with  a  feeble  force,  and  thought  that  he  would  be 
secure  in  any  place.  At  Alexandria  he  was  informed  of  the 
death  of  Pompey :  and  at  his  landing  there,  heard  a  cry 
among  the  soldiers  whom  the  king  had  left  to  garrison  the 
town,  and  saw  a  crowd  gathering  toward  him,  because  the 
fasces  were  carried  before  him ;  for  this  the  whole  multitude 
thought  an  infringement  of  the  king's  dignity.  Though  this 
tumult  was  appeased,  frequent  disturbances  were  raised  for 
several  days  successively,  by  crowds  of  the  populace,  and  a 
great  many  of  his  soldiers  were  killed  in  all  parts  of  the  city. 

Having  observed  this,  he  ordered  other  legions  to  be 
brought  to  him  from  Asia,  which  he  had  made  up  out  of 
Pompey 's  soldiers;  for  he  was  .himself  detained  against  his 
will,  by  the  etesian  winds,  which  are  totally  unfavorable  to 
persons  on  a  voyage  from  Alexandria.  In  the  meantime,  con- 
sidering that  the  disputes  of  the  princes  belonged  to  the  juris- 
diction of  the  Roman  people,  and  of  him  as  consul,  and  that 
it  was  a  duty  more  incumbent  on  him,  as  in  his  former  con- 
sulate a  league  had  been  made  with  Ptolemy  the  late  king, 
under  sanction  both  of  a  law  and  a  decree  of  the  senate,  he 
signified  that  it  was  his  pleasure  that  king  Ptolemy,  and  his 
sister  Cleopatra,  should  disband  their  armies,  and  decide  their 
disputes  in  his  presence  by  justice,  rather  than  by  the  sword. 

A  eunuch  named  Pothinus,  the  boy's  tutor,  was  regent  of 
the  kingdom  on  account  of  his  youthfulness.10  He  at  first 
began  to  complain  among  his  friends,  and  to  express  his  in- 
dignation, that  the  king  should  be  summoned  to  plead  his 
cause :  but  afterward,  having  prevailed  on  some  of  those  whom 
he  had  made  acquainted  with  his  views  to  join  him,  he  se- 
cretly called  the  army  away  from  Pelusium  to  Alexandria, 
and  appointed  Achillas,  already  spoken  of,  commander-in- 
chief  of  the  forces.  Him  he  encouraged  and  animated  by 
promises  both  in  his  own  and  the  king's  name,  and  instructed 
him  both  by  letters  and  messages  how  he  should  act.  By  the 
will  of  Ptolemy  the  father,  the  elder  of  his  two  sons  and  the 
more  advanced  in  years  of  his  two  daughters  were  declared  his 

10  We  learn  from  Appian  that  the  young  king  was  thirteen  years  old 
at  this  time. 


136  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

heirs,  and  for  the  more  effectual  performance  of  his  inten- 
tion, in  the  same  will  he  conjured  the  Roman  people  by  all 
the  gods,  and  by  the  league  which  he  had  entered  into  at 
Rome,  to  see  his  will  executed.  One  of  the  copies  of  his  will 
was  conveyed  to  Rome  by  his  embassadors  to  be  deposited  in 
the  treasury,  but  the  public  troubles  preventing  it,  it  was 
lodged  with  Pompey:  another  was  left  sealed  up,  and  kept 
at  Alexandria. 

While  these  things  were  debated  before  Ca?sar,  and  he  was 
very  anxious  to  settle  royal  disputes  as  a  common  friend  and 
arbitrator;  news  was  brought  on  a  sudden  that  the  king's 
army  and  all  his  cavalry,  were  on  their  march  to  Alexandria. 
Ciesar's  forces  were  by  no  means  so  strong  that  he  could 
trust  to  them,  if  he  had  occasion  to  hazard  a  battle  without 
the  town.  His  only  resource  was  to  keep  within  the  town 
in  the  most  convenient  places,  and  get  information  of 
Achillas 's  designs.  However  he  ordered  his  soldiers  to  repair 
to  their  arms;  and  advised  the  king  to  send  some  of  his 
friends,  who  had  the  greatest  influence,  as  deputies  to 
Achillas,  and  to  signify  his  royal  pleasure.  Dioscorides  and 
Serapion,  the  persons  sent  by  him,  who  had  both  been  em- 
bassadors at  Rome,  and  had  been  in  great  esteem  with 
Ptolemy  the  father,  went  to  Achillas.  But  as  soon  as  they 
appeared  in  his  presence,  without  hearing  them,  or  learning 
the  occasion  of  their  coming,  he  ordered  them  to  be  seized 
and  put  to  death.  One  of  them,  after  receiving  a  wound,  was 
taken  up  and  carried  off  by  his  attendants  as  dead :  the  other 
was  killed  on  the  spot.  Upon  this,  Caesar  took  care  to  secure 
the  king's  person,  both  supposing  that  the  king's  name  would 
have  a  great  influence  with  his  subjects,  and  to  give  the  war 
the  appearance  of  the  scheme  of  a  few  desperate  men,  rather 
than  of  having  been  begun  by  the  king's  consent. 

The  forces  under  Achillas  did  not  seem  despicable,  either  for 
number,  spirit  or  military  experience ;  for  he  had  twenty 
thousand  men  under  arms.  They  consisted  partly  of 
Gabinius's  soldiers,  who  were  now  become  habituated  to  the 
licentious  mode  of  living  at  Alexandria,  and  had  forgotten 
the  name  and  discipline  of  the  Roman  people,  and  had  mar- 
ried wives  there,  by  whom  the  greatest  part  of  them  had 
children.  To  these  was  added  a  collection  of  highwaymen, 


JULIUS  C/ESAR  137 

and  freebooters,  from  Syria,  and  the  province  of  Cilicia,  and 
the  adjacent  countries.  Besides  several  convicts  and  trans- 
ports had  been  collected :  for  at  Alexandria  all  our  runaway 
slaves  were  sure  of  finding  protection  for  their  persons  on  the 
condition  that  they  should  give  in  their  names,  and  enlist 
as  soldiers:  and  if  any  of  them  was  apprehended  by  his 
master,  he  was  rescued  by  a  crowd  of  his  fellow  soldiers,  who 
being  involved  in  the  same  guilt,  repelled,  at  the  hazard  of 
their  lives,  every  violence  offered  to  any  of  their  body.  These 
by  a  prescriptive  privilege  of  the  Alexandrian  army,  used  to 
demand  the  king's  favorites  to  be  put  to  death,  pillage  the 
properties  of  the  rich  to  increase  their  pay,  invest  the  king's 
palace,  banish  some  from  the  kingdom,  and  recall  others  from 
exile.  Besides  these,  there  were  two  thousand  horse,  who  had 
acquired  the  skill  of  veterans  by  being  in  several  wars  in  Alex- 
andria. These  had  restored  Ptolemy  the  father  to  his  king- 
dom, had  killed  Bibulus's  two  sons;  and  had  been  engaged 
in  war  with  the  Egyptians ;  such  was  their  experience  in  mili- 
tary affairs. 

Full  of  confidence  in  his  troops,  and  despising  the  small 
number  of  Caesar's  soldiers,  Achillas  seized  Alexandria,  ex- 
cept that  part  of  the  town  which  Caesar  occupied  with  his 
troops.  At  first  he  attempted  to  force  the  palace ;  but  Caesar 
had  disposed  his  cohorts  through  the  streets,  and  repelled  his 
attack.  At  the  same  time  there  was  an  action  at  the  port: 
where  the  contest  was  maintained  with  the  greatest  obsti- 
nacy.11 For  the  forces  were  divided,  and  the  fight  main- 
tained in  several  streets  at  once,  and  the  enemy  endeavored 
to  seize  with  a  strong  party  the  ships  of  war ;  of  which  fifty 
had  been  sent  to  Pompey's  assistance,  but  after  the  battle 
in  Thessaly,  had  returned  home.  They  were  all  of  either 
three  or  five  banks  of  oars,  well  equipped  and  appointed  with 
every  necessary  for  a  voyage.  Besides  these,  there  were 
twenty-two  vessels  with  decks,  which  were  usually  kept  at 
Alexandria,  to  guard  the  port.  If  they  made  themselves  mas- 
ters of  these,  Caesar  being  deprived  of  his  fleet,  they  would 
have  the  command  of  the  port  and  whole  sea,  and  could  pre- 
vent him  from  procuring  provisions  and  auxiliaries.  Accord- 

11  Otherwise  thus,  "and  that  action  was  productive  of  b7  far  the 
greatest  danger. ' ' 


138  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

ingly  that  spirit  was  displayed,  which  ought  to  be  displayed 
when  the  one  party  saw  that  a  speedy  victory  depended  on 
the  issue,  and  the  other  their  safety.  But  Caesar  gained  the 
day,  and  set  fire  to  all  those  ships,  and  to  others  which  were 
in  the  docks,  because  he  could  not  guard  so  many  places  with 
so  small  a  force :  and  immediately  he  conveyed  some  troops 
to  the  Pharos  by  his  ships. 

The  Pharos  is  a  tower  on  an  island,  of  prodigious  height, 
built  with  amazing  works,  and  takes  its  name  from  the  island. 
This  island  lying  over  against  Alexandria,  forms  a  harbor; 
but  on  the  upper  side  it  is  connected  with  the  town  by  a 
narrow  way  eight  hundred  paces  in  length,  made  by  piles 
sunk  in  the  sea,  and  by  a  bridge.  In  this  island  some  of  the 
Egyptians  have  houses,  and  a  village  as  large  as  a  town ;  and 
whatever  ships  from  any  quarter,  either  through  mistaking 
the  channel,  or  by  the  storm,  have  been  driven  from  their 
course  upon  the  coast,  they  constantly  plunder  like  pirates. 
And  without  the  cpnsent  of  those  who  are  masters  of  the 
Pharos,  no  vessels  can  enter  the  harbor,  on  account  of  its 
narrowness.  Ctesar  being  greatly  alarmed  on  this  account, 
while  the  enemy  were  engaged  in  battle,  landed  his  soldiers, 
seized  the  Pharos,  and  placed  a  garrison  in  it.  By  this 
means  he  gained  this  point,  that  he  could  be  supplied  with- 
out danger  with  corn,  and  auxiliaries ;  for  he  sent  to  all  the 
neighboring  countries,  to  demand  supplies.  In  other  parts 
of  the  town,  they  fought  so  obstinately,  that  they  quitted  the 
field  with  equal  advantage,  and  neither  were  beaten  (in  con- 
sequence of  the  narrowness  of  the  passes)  ;  and  a  few  being 
killed  on  both  sides,  Caesar  secured  the  most  necessary  posts, 
and  fortified  them  in  the  night.  In  this  quarter  of  the  town 
w?as  a  wing  of  the  king's  palace,  in  which  Caesar  was  lodged 
on  his  first  arrival,  and  a  theater  adjoining  the  house  which 
served  as  a  citadel,  and  commanded  an  avenue  to  the  ports 
and  other  docks.  These  fortifications  he  increased  during 
the  succeeding  days,  that  he  might  have  them  before  him  as 
a  rampart,  and  not  be  obliged  to  fight  against  his  will.  In 
the  meantime  Ptolemy's  younger  daughter,  hoping  the  throne 
would  become  vacant,  made  her  escape  from  the  palace  to 
Achillas,  and  assisted  him  in  prosecuting  the  war.  But  they 
soon  quarreled  about  the  command,  which  circumstance  en- 


JULIUS  CJESAR  139 

larged  the  presents  to  the  soldiers,  for  each  endeavored  by 
great  sacrifices  to  secure  their  affection.  While  the  enemy 
was  thus  employed,  Pothinus,  tutor  to  the  young  king,  and 
regent  of  the  kingdom,  who  was  in  Csesar's  part  of  the  town, 
sent  messengers  to  Achillas,  and  encouraged  him  not  to  de- 
sist from  his  enterprise,  nor  to  despair  of  success;  but  his 
messengers  being  discovered  and  apprehended,  he  was  put 
to  death  by  Caesar.  Such  was  the  commencement  of  the  Alex- 
andrian war. 


END  OP  THE       COMMENTARIES  ON  THE  CIVIL  WAE 


AUGUSTUS  CJESAR 


AUGUSTUS 

THE   FIRST  EMPEROR   OF   ROME 

63  B.  C.-14  A.  D. 

(INTRODUCTORY  NOTE) 

Gaius  Juliua  Caesar  Octavianus  is  more  commonly  known  by  his  title 
of  Augustus,  which  means  the  ' '  august "  or  "  consecrated ' '  Caesar.  He 
was  the  grandnephew  of  Julius  Caesar  and  as  such  became  his  adopted 
son  and  heir.  The  young  heir,  at  first  publicly  known  as  Octavian,  waa 
only  nineteen  years  old  when  the  mighty  Julius  was  slain;  but  by  much 
shrewdness  and  cautious  wisdom  Octavian  gradually  got  the  upper  hand 
of  all  the  foes  of  his  uncle  and  all  his  own  rivals.  Brutus,  Cassius, 
Cicero  and  Mark  Antony,  each  in  turn  perished  in  opposing  him.  The 
.Roman  populace  which  had  been  devoted  to  Julius  Caesar  finally  became 
even  more  devoted  to  Octavian,  and  bestowed  on  him  for  life  the  author- 
ity of  one  office  after  another,  until  he  united  in  his  own  person  all 
the  powers  of  chief  priest,  chief  general,  chief  legislator  and  chief 
"tribune"  or  guardian  of  the  people's  rights.  This  complete  and  uni- 
versal mastership  over  all  the  world  of  his  day,  Augustus  exercised 
wisely  and  with  splendid  self-control.  As  he  himself  records,  the  Roman 
temple  of  the  wargod  was  first  closed  by  him,  that  is,  he  held  the  whole 
known  world  in  a  submissive  peace. 

Shortly  before  his  death  Augustus,  somewhat  in  the  spirit  of  the  old 
Babylonian  and  Assyrian  kings,  prepared  a  public  statement  of  all  his 
achievements.  The  contrast  of  his  record  to  that  of  the  Assyrians  is, 
however,  very  striking.  Augustus  proclaims  his  gentleness  and  justice 
and  generosity;  they  had  proclaimed  only  their  ferocity  and  supreme 
power. 

This  official  statement  by  Augustus  was  inscribed  upon  a  monument 
in  Rome  and  copies  of  it  were  set  up  in  other  cities.  All  of  these 
records  were  supposed  to  have  perished  in  the  destruction  of  the  Roman 
civilization.  Recently,  however,  a  surviving  copy  was  discovered  on  the 
wall  of  a  temple  in  the  Asiatic  city  of  Ancyra.  This  "Monumentum 
Ancyranum, "  as  it  was  promptly  named,  aroused  intense  interest  through 
all  the  learned  world.  Careful  copies  of  the  inscription  were  brought 

141 


142  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

to  Europe  and  carefully  studied.  Thus  the  official  autobiography  of  this 
mightiest  of  Roman  rulers,  his  own  estimate  of  his  own  great  career,  has 
been  recovered  and  is  given  here.  Its  wording  is  stiff  and  dry  and 
somewhat  pompous,  representing  Augustus  to  have  been  all  right  and 
his  opponents  all  wrong  in  every  controversy.  Yet  its  very  narrowness, 
its  simple  striving  for  approval,  is  in  a  way  pathetically  typical  of  the 
emperor  himself,  of  the  man  of  whom  the  story  is  told  that  when  ap- 
proaching death,  he  had  himself  carefully  dressed  and  rose  upright, 
saying  to  his  attendants,  "Have  I  played  my  part  well  in  lifef  If  so 
applaud  me  now." 

THE  ' '  MONUMENTUM  ANCYRANUM"   OR  INSCRIPTION  OP  AUGUS- 
TUS  AT   ANCYRA  * 

BELOW  is  a  copy  of  the  deeds  of  the  divine  Augustus,  by 
which  he  subjected  the  whole  world  to  the  dominion  of  the 
Roman  people,  and  of  the  amounts  which  he  expended  upon 
the  commonwealth  and  the  Roman  people,  as  engraved  upon 
two  brazen  columns  which  are  set  up  at  Rome. 


IN  my  twentieth  year,  acting  upon  my  own  judgment  and  at 
my  own  expense,  I  raised  an  army  by  means  of  which  I  re- 
stored to  liberty  the  commonwealth  which  had  been  oppressed 
by  the  tyranny  of  a  faction.2  On  account  of  this  the  senate 
by  laudatory  decrees  admitted  me  to  its  order,3  in  the  consul- 
ship of  Gains  Pansa  and  Aulus  Hirtius,  and  at  the  same  time 
gave  me  consular  rank  in  the  expression  of  opinion ;  and  gave 
me  the  imperium.  It  also  voted  that  I  as  propraetor,  together 
with  the  consuls,  should  see  to  it  that  the  commonwealth  suf- 
fered no  harm.4  In  the  same  year,  moreover,  when  both  con- 
suls had  perished  in  war,  the  people  made  me  consul,  and 
triumvir  for  organizing  the  commonwealth. 

1  Reprinted  by  permission  of  the  University  of  Pennsylvania,  from 
the  historical  publications  of  the  University. 

'Such  a  statement  is  part  of  Augustus'  scheme  to  pose  as  a  restorer 
of  the  old  order.  He  makes  Brutus,  Cassius,  Pompey  and  Antony  public 
enemies. 

*  Cicero  says  ' '  the  senate  voted  that  Gaius  Caesar,  son  of  Gaius,  pontiff, 
should  be  a  senator,  and  hold  prtrtorian  rank  in  speaking." 

*  The   formula   by   which    in   emergencies,   extraordinary   powers   were 
given  to  the  ordinary  magistrates. 


AUGUSTUS  CJESAR  143 

n 

THOSE  who  killed  my  father  I  drove  into  exile  by  lawful 
judgments,  avenging  their  crime,  and  afterwards,  when  they 
waged  war  against  the  commonwealth,  I  twice  defeated  them 
in  battle. 

in 

I  UNDERTOOK  civil  and  foreign  wars  by  land  and  sea  through- 
out the  whole  world,  and  as  victor  I  showed  mercy  to  all  sur- 
viving citizens.  Foreign  peoples,  who  could  be  pardoned  with 
safety,  I  preferred  to  preserve  rather  than  to  destroy.  About 
five  hundred  thousand  Roman  citizens  took  the  military  oath 
of  allegiance  to  me.  Of  these  I  have  settled  in  colonies  or 
sent  back  to  their  municipia,  upon  the  expiration  of  their 
terms  of  service,  somewhat  over  three  hundred  thousand,  and 
to  all  these  I  have  given  lands  purchased  by  me,  or  money 
for  farms,  out  of  my  own  means.  I  have  captured  six  hundred 
ships,  besides  those  which  were  smaller  than  triremes. 

IV 

TWICE  I  have  triumphed  in  the  ovation,5  and  three  times  in 
the  curule  triumph,6  and  I  have  been  twenty-one  times  saluted 
as  imperator.7  After  that,  when  the  senate  decreed  me  many 
triumphs,  I  declined  them.  Likewise  I  often  deposited  the 
laurels  in  the  Capitol  in  fulfillment  of  vows  which  I  had  also 
made  in  battle.  On  account  of  enterprises  brought  to  a  suc- 
cessful issue  on  land  and  sea  by  me,  or  by  my  lieutenants 
under  my  auspices,  the  senate  fifty-five  times  decreed  that 
there  should  be  a  thanksgiving  to  the  immortal  gods.  The 
number  of  days,  moreover,  on  which  thanksgiving  was  ren- 
dered in  accordance  with  the  decree  of  the  senate  was  eight 
hundred  and  ninety.  In  my  triumphs  there  have  been  led 

8  The  ovation  was  the  lesser  triumph.  The  general  entered  the  city 
clad  as  an  ordinary  magistrate,  and  on  foot,  or  as  here  on  horseback, 
decked  with  myrtle. 

*  In  the  curule  triumph,  for  important  victories,  the  general  was  vested 
in  purple,  and  rode  in  a  four-horse  chariot,  preceded  by  the  fasces. 

7  The  acclamation  as  imperator,  on  account  of  success  in  war,  must  be 
carefully  distinguished  from  the  title  used  as  a  prefix  to  the  name  and 
as  a  mark  of  perpetual  authority.  The  title  imperator  was  regularly 
and  permanently  assumed  at  the  beginning  of  each  reign,  after  that  of 
Augustus.  To  him  it  was  formally  assigned  by  the  senate. 


H4-  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

before  my  chariot  nine  kings,  or  children  of  kings.  When  I 
wrote  these  words  I  had  been  thirteen  times  consul,  and  was 
in  the  thirty-seventh  year  of  the  tribunitial  power. 


THE  dictatorship  which  was  offered  to  me  by  the  people  and 
the  senate,  both  when  I  was  absent  and  when  I  was  present, 
in  the  consulship  of  Marcus  Marcellus  and  Lucius  Arruntius, 
I  did  not  accept.  At  a  time  of  the  greatest  dearth  of  grain 
I  did  not  refuse  the  charge  of  the  food  supply,  which  I  so 
administered  that  in  a  few  days,  at  my  own  expense,  I  freed 
the  whole  people  from  the  anxiety  and  danger  in  which  they 
then  were.  The  annual  and  perpetual  consulship  offered  to 
me  at  that  time  I  did  not  accept. 

VI 

DURING  the  consulship  of  Marcus  Vinucius  and  Quintus  Lu- 
cretius, and  afterwards  in  that  of  Publius  and  Cnaeus  Lentu- 
lus,  and  a  third  time  in  that  of  Paullus  Fabius  Maximus  and 
Quintus  Tubero,  by  the  consent  of  the  senate  and  the  Roman 
people  I  was  voted  the  sole  charge  of  the  laws  and  of  morals, 
with  the  fullest  power ;  but  I  accepted  the  proffer  of  no  office 
which  was  contrary  to  the  customs  of  the  country.  The  meas- 
ures of  which  the  senate  at  that  time  wished  me  to  take 
charge,  I  accomplished  in  virtue  of  my  possession  of  the 
tribunitial  power.  Tn  this  office  I  five  times  associated  with 
myself  a  colleague,  with  the  consent  of  the  senate. 

VII 

FOR  ten  years  in  succession  I  was  one  of  the  triumvirs  for 
organizing  the  commonwealth.  Up  to  that  day  on  which  I 
write  these  words  I  have  been  prince  ps  of  the  senate  through 
forty  years.  I  have  been  pontifex  maximus,  augur,  a  member 
of  the  quindecemviral  college  of  the  sacred  rites,  of  the 
scptemviral  college  of  the  banquets,  an  Arval  Brother,  a  mem- 
ber of  the  Titian  sodality,  and  a  fetial. 

VIII 

IN  my  fifth  consulship,  by  order  of  the  people  and  the  senate, 
I  increased  the  number  of  the  patricians.  Three  times  I  have 


AUGUSTUS  C/ESAR  145 

revised  the  list  of  the  senate.8  In  my  sixth  consulship,  with 
Marcus  Agrippa  as  colleague,  I  made  a  census  of  the  people. 
I  performed  the  lustration  after  forty-one  years.  In  this 
lustration  the  number  of  Roman  citizens  was  four  million  and 
sixty-three  thousand.  Again  assuming  the  consular  power 
in  the  consulship  of  Gaius  Censorinus  and  Gaius  Asinius,  I 
alone  performed  the  lustration.  At  this  census  the  number  of 
Roman  citizens  was  four  million,  two  hundred  and  thirty 
thousand.  A  third  time,  assuming  the  consular  power  in  the 
consulship  of  Sextus  Pompeius  and  Sextus  Appuleius,  with 
Tiberius  Ca?sar  as  colleague,  I  performed  the  lustration.  At 
this  lustration  the  number  of  Roman  citizens  was  four  million, 
nine  hundred  and  thirty-seven  thousand.  By  new  legislation 
I  have  restored  many  customs  of  our  ancestors  which  had 
now  begun  to  fall  into  disuse,  and  I  have  myself  also  com- 
mitted to  posterity  many  examples  worthy  of  imitation. 

IX 

THE  senate  decreed  that  every  fifth  year  vows  for  my  good 
health  should  be  performed  by  the  consuls  and  the  priests. 
In  accordance  with  these  vows  games  have  been  often  cele- 
brated during  my  lifetime,  sometimes  by  the  four  chief  col- 
leges, sometimes  by  the  consuls.  In  private,  also,  and  as 
municipalities,  the  whole  body  of  citizens  have  constantly 
sacrificed  at  every  shrine  for  my  good  health. 


BY  a  decree  of  the  senate  my  name  has  been  included  in  the 
Salian  hymn,  and  it  has  been  enacted  by  law  that  I  should  be 
sacrosanct,  and  that  as  long  as  I  live  I  should  be  invested  with 
the  tribunitial  power.  I  refused  to  be  made  pontifex  maximus 
in  the  place  of  a  colleague  still  living,  when  the  people  ten- 

*  During  most  of  the  republican  history  the  senate  numbered,  ideally, 
three  hundred.  In  Cicero '«  time  it  hud  over  tour  hundred  members. 
Julius  Caesar  raised  it  t  about  nine  hundred.  Suet.  Aug.,  35,  says:  "By 
two  separate  scrutinies  ).e  (Augustus)  reduced  to  their  former  number 
and  splendor  the  senate,  .vhich  had  been  swamped  by  -i  disorderly  crowd ; 
tor  they  were  now  more  than  a  thousand,  and  some  it  them  very  mean 
j-orsons,  who,  after  Caesar's  death,  had  been  chosen  by  dint  of  interest 
and  bribery,  sc  that  they  had  the  name  01  Orcini  among  the  people." 
They  were  also  called  Charonites,  because  they  owed  their  elevation  to 
the  last  will  of  Caesar,  who  had  gone  into  Orcus  to  Charon. 
A.  V.  1—10 


146  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

dered  me  that  priesthood  which  ray  father  held.  I  accepted 
that  office  after  several  years,  when  he  was  dead  who  had 
seized  it  during  a  time  of  civil  disturbance ;  and  at  the  comitia 
for  my  election,  during  the  consulship  of  Publius  Sulpicius 
and  Gaius  Valgius,  so  great  a  multitude  assembled  as,  it  is 
said,  had  never  before  been  in  Rome. 

XI 

CLOSE  to  the  temples  of  Honor  and  Virtue,  near  the  Capena 
gate,  the  senate  consecrated  in  honor  of  my  return  an  altar  to 
Fortune  the  Restorer,  and  upon  this  altar  it  ordered  that  the 
pontifices  and  the  Vestal  virgins  should  offer  sacrifice  yearly 
on  the  anniversary  of  the  day  on  which  I  returned  into  the 
city  from  Syria,  in  the  consulship  of  Quintus  Lucretius  and 
Marcus  Vinucius,  and  it  called  the  day  the  Augustalia,  from 
our  cognomen. 

XII 

BY  a  decree  of  the  senate  at  the  same  time  a  part  of  the 
praters  and  tribunes  of  the  people  with  the  consul  Quintus 
Lucretius  and  leading  citizens  were  sent  into  Campania  to 
meet  me,  an  honor  which  up  to  this  time  has  been  decreed  to 
no  one  but  me.  When  I  returned  from  Spain  and  Gaul  after 
successfully  arranging  the  affairs  of  those  provinces,  in  the 
consulship  of  Tiberius  Nero  and  Publius  Quintilius,  the  senate 
voted  that  in  honor  of  my  return  an  altar  of  the  Augustan 
Peace  should  be  consecrated  in  the  Campus  Martius,  and  upon 
this  altar  it  ordered  the  magistrates  and  priests  and  vestal 
virgins  to  offer  sacrifices  on  each  anniversary. 

xm 

JANUS  QUIBINUS,  which  it  was  the  purpose  of  our  fathers  to 
close  when  there  was  peace  won  by  victory*  throughout  the 
whole  empire  of  the  Roman  people  on  land  and  sea,  and 
which,  before  I  was  born,  from  the  foundation  of  the  city, 
was  reported  to  have  been  closed  twice  in  all,  the  senate  three 
times  ordered  to  be  closed  while  I  was  princeps. 

*  Tho  exact  conditions  necessary  for  the  closing  of  the  temple,  viz., 
"peace  won  by  victories,"  were  first  made  known  in  1882  by  this  per- 
fected text  of  Ecs  Gestce. 


AUGUSTUS  (LESAR  147 

XIV 

MY  sons,  the  Caesars  Gaius  and  Lucius,  whom  fortune  snatched 
from  me  in  their  youth,  the  senate  and  Roman  people,  in 
order  to  do  me  honor,  designated  as  consuls  in  the  fifteenth 
year  of  each,  with  the  intention  that  they  should  enter  upon 
that  magistracy  after  five  years.  And  the  senate  decreed  that 
from  the  day  in  which  they  were  introduced  into  the  forum 
they  should  share  in  the  public  counsels.  Moreover  the  whole 
body  of  the  Roman  knights  gave  them  the  title,  principes  of 
the  youth,  and  gave  to  each  a  silver  buckler  and  spear. 

XV 

To  each  man  of  the  Roman  plcbs  I  paid  three  hundred 
sesterces  in  accordance  with  the  last  will  of  my  father ; 10  and 
in  my  own  name,  when  consul  for  the  fifth  time,  I  gave  four 
hundred  sesterces  from  the  spoils  of  the  wars;  again,  more- 
over, in  my  tenth  consulship  I  gave  from  my  own  estate  four 
hundred  sesterces  to  each  man  by  way  of  congiarium;  and  in 
my  eleventh  consulship  I  twelve  times  made  distributions  of 
food,  buying  grain  at  my  own  expense;  and  in  the  twelfth 
year  of  my  tribunitial  power  I  three  times  gave  four  hundred 
sesterces  to  each  man.  These  my  donations  have  never  been 
made  to  less  than  two  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  men.  In 
my  twelfth  consulship  and  the  eighteenth  year  of  my  tribu- 
nitial power  I  gave  to  three  hundred  and  twenty  thousand  of 
the  city  plebs  sixty  denarii  apiece.  In  the  colonies  of  my 
soldiers,  when  consul  for  the  fifth  time,  I  gave  to  each  man  a 
thousand  sesterces  from  the  spoils;  about  a  hundred  and 
twenty  thousand  men  in  the  colonies  received  that  triumphal 
donation.  When  consul  for  the  thirteenth  time  I  gave  sixty 
denarii  to  the  plets  who  were  at  that  time  receiving  public 
grain ;  these  men  were  a  little  more  than  two  hundred  thou- 
sand in  number. 

XVI 

FOR  the  lands  which  in  my  fourth  consulship,  and  afterwards 
in  the  consulship  of  Marcus  Crassus  and  Cnreus  Lentulus,  the 
augur,  I  assigned  to  soldiers,  I  paid  money  to  the  municipia. 

10 "He  (Caesar)  bequeathed  to  the  Roman  people  his  gardens  near  the 
Tiber,  and  three  hundred  sesterces  to  each  man." 


148  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

The  sum  which  I  paid  for  Italian  farms  was  about  six  hun- 
dred million  sesterces,  and  that  for  lands  in  the  provinces 
was  about  two  hundred  and  sixty  millions.  Of  all  those  who 
have  established  colonies  of  soldiers  in  Italy  or  in  the  prov- 
inces I  am  the  first  and  only  one  within  the  memory  of  my 
age,  to  do  this.  And  afterward  in  the  consulship  of  Tiberius 
Nero  and  Cnaeus  Piso,  and  also  in  that  of  Gaius  Antistius 
and  Decimus  Laelius,  and  in  that  of  Gaius  Calvisius  and 
Lucius  Pasienus,  and  in  that  of  Lucius  Lentulus  and  Marcus 
Messala,  and  in  that  of  Lucius  Cauinius  and  Quintus  Fabri- 
cius,  I  gave  gratuities  in  money  to  the  soldiers  whom  I  sent 
back  to  their  municipia  at  the  expiration  of  their  terms  of 
service,  and  for  this  purpose  I  freely  spent  four  hundred 
million  sesterces. 

xvii 

FOUR  times  I  have  aided  the  public  treasury  from  my  own 
means,  to  such  extent  that  I  have  furnished  to  those  in  charge 
of  the  treasury  one  hundred  and  fifty  million  sesterces.  And 
in  the  consulship  of  Marcus  Lepidus  and  Lucius  Arruntius  I 
paid  into  the  military  treasury  which  was  established  by  my 
advice  that  from  it  gratuities  might  be  given  to  soldiers  who 
had  served  a  term  of  twenty  or  more  years,  one  hundred  and 
seventy  million  sesterces  from  my  own  estate. 

xvm 

BEGINNING  with  that  year  in  which  Cnasus  and  Publius  Len- 
tulus were  consuls,  when  the  imposts  failed,  I  furnished  aid 
sometimes  to  a  hundred  thousand  men,  and  sometimes  to 
more,  by  supplying  grain  or  money  for  the  tribute  from  my 
own  land  and  property. 

XIX 

I  CONSTRUCTED  the  Curia,  and  the  Chalcidicum  adjacent 
thereto,  the  temple  of  Apollo  on  the  Palatine,  with  its  porti- 
coes, the  temple  of  the  divine  Julius,  the  Lupercal,  the  portico 
to  the  Circus  of  Flaminius,  which  I  allowed  to  bear  the  name, 
Portico  Octavia,  from  his  name  who  constructed  the  earlier 
one  in  the  same  place ;  the  Pulvinar  at  the  Circus  Maximus. 
the  temples  of  Jupiter  the  Vanquisher  and  Jupiter  the  Thun- 
derer, on  the  Capitol,  the  temple  of  Quirinus,  the  temples  of 


AUGUSTUS  CJESAR  149 

Minerva  and  Juno  Regina  and  of  Jupiter  Libertas,  on  the 
Aventine,  the  temple  of  the  Lares  on  the  highest  point  of  the 
Via  Sacra,  the  temple  of  the  divine  Penates  on  the  Velian  hill, 
the  temple  of  Youth,  and  the  temple  of  the  Great  Mother  on 
the  Palatine. 

XX 

THE  Capitol  and  the  Pompeian  theater  have  been  restored  by 
me  at  enormous  expense  for  each  work,  without  any  inscrip- 
tion of  my  name.  Aqueducts  which  were  crumbling  in  many 
places  by  reason  of  age  I  have  restored,  and  I  have  doubled 
the  water  which  bears  the  name  Marcian  by  turning  a  new 
spring  into  its  course.  The  Forum  Julium  and  the  basilica 
which  was  between  the  temple  of  Castor  and  the  temple  of 
Saturn,  works  begun  and  almost  completed  by  my  father,  I 
have  finished ;  and  when  that  same  basilica  was  consumed  by 
fire,  I  began  its  reconstruction  on  an  enlarged  site,  inscribing 
it  with  the  names  of  my  sons ;  and  if  I  do  not  live  to  complete 
it,  I  have  given  orders  that  it  be  completed  by  my  heirs.  In 
accordance  with  a  decree  of  the  senate,  while  consul  for  the 
sixth  time,  I  have  restored  eighty-two  temples  of  the  gods, 
passing  over  none  which  was  at  that  time  in  need  of  repair. 
In  my  seventh  consulship  I  reconstructed  the  Flaminian  way 
from  the  city  to  Ariminum,  and  all  the  bridges  except  the 
Mulvian  and  Minucian. 

XXI 

UPON  private  ground  I  have  built  with  the  spoils  of  war  the 
temple  of  Mars  the  Avenger,  and  the  Augustan  Forum.  Be- 
side the  temple  of  Apollo,  I  built  upon  ground,  bought  for  the 
most  part  at  my  own  expense,  a  theater,  to  bear  the  name  of 
Marcellus,  my  son-in-law.  From  the  spoils  of  war  I  have  con- 
secrated gifts  in  the  Capitol,  and  in  the  temple  of  the  divine 
Julius,  and  in  the  temple  of  Apollo,  and  in  the  temple  of 
Vesta,  and  in  the  temple  of  Mars  the  Avenger;  these  gifts 
have  cost  me  about  a  hundred  million  sesterces.  In  my  fifth 
consulship  I.  remitted  to  the  municipia  and  Italian  colonies 
the  thirty-five  thousand  pounds  given  me  as  coronary  gold  on 
the  occasion  of  my  triumphs,  and  thereafter,  as  often  as  I 
was  proclaimed  imperator,  I  did  not  accept  the  coronary  gold 
which  the  municipia  and  colonies  kindly  voted  to  me. 


150  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

xxn 

THREE  times  in  my  own  name,  and  five  times  in  that  of  my 
sons  or  grandsons,  I  have  given  gladiatorial  exhibitions;  ift 
these  exhibitions  about  ten  thousand  men  have  fought.  Twice 
in  my  own  name,  and  three  times  in  that  of  my  grandson,  1 
have  offered  the  people  the  spectacle  of  athletes  gathered  from 
all  quarters.  I  have  celebrated  games  four  times  in  my  own 
name,  and  twenty-three  times  in  the  turns  of  other  mag- 
istrates. In  behalf  of  the  college  of  quindecemvirs,  I,  as 
master  of  the  college,  with  my  colleague  Agrippa,  celebrated 
the  Secular  Games  in  the  consulship  of  Gaius  Furnius  and 
Gaius  Silanus.  "When  consul  for  the  thirteenth  time,  I  first 
celebrated  the  Martial  games,  which  since  that  time  the  con- 
suls have  given  in  successive  years.  Twenty-six  times  in  my 
own  name,  or  in  that  of  my  sons  and  grandsons,  I  have  given 
hunts  of  African  wild  beasts  in  the  circus,  the  forum,  the 
amphitheaters,  and  about  thirty-five  hundred  beasts  have  been 
killed. 

XXIII 

I  GAVE  the  people  the  spectacle  of  a  naval  battle  beyond  the 
Tiber,  where  now  is  the  grove  of  the  Caesars.11  For  this  pur- 
pose an  excavation  was  made  eighteen  hundred  feet  long  and 
twelve  hundred  wide.  In  this  contest  thirty  beaked  ships, 
triremes  or  biremes,  were  engaged,  besides  more  of  smaller 
size.  About  three  thousand  men  fought  in  these  vessels  in 
addition  to  the  rowers. 

XXIV 

IN  the  temples  of  all  the  cities  of  the  province  of  Asia,  I,  as 
victor,  replaced  the  ornaments  of  which  he  with  whom  I  was 
at  war  had  taken  private  possession  when  he  despoiled  the 
temples.  Silver  statues  of  me,  on  foot,  on  horseback  and  in 
quadrigas,  which  stood  in  the  city  to  the  number  of  about 
eighty,  I  removed,  and  out  of  their  money  value,  I  placed 

11  Velleius  writes:  "The  divine  Augustus  in  the  year  when  he  was  con- 
sul with  Gallus  Caninius  sated  the  minds  and  the  eyes  of  the  Roman 
people  at  the  dedication  of  the  temple  of  Mars  with  the  most  magnificent 
gladiatorial  shows  and  naval  battles."  Dio  says  that  traces  of  the 
excavation  could  he  seen  in  his  time  (c.  200  A.  D.),  and  that  the  fight 
represented  a  battle  of  Athenians  and  Persians,  in  which  the  former  were 
victorious. 


AUGUSTUS  CAESAR  151 

golden  gifts  in  the  temple  of  Apollo  in  my  own  name,  and  in 
the  names  of  those  who  had  offered  me  the  honor  of  the 
statues. 

XXV 

I  HAVE  freed  the  sea  from  pirates.  In  that  war  with  the  slaves 
I  delivered  to  their  masters  for  punishment  about  thirty 
thousand  slaves  who  had  fled  from  their  masters  and  taken  up 
arms  against  the  state.12  The  whole  of  Italy  voluntarily  took 
the  oath  of  allegiance  to  me,  and  demanded  me  as  leader  in 
that  war  in  which  I  conquered  at  Actium.  The  provinces  of 
Gaul,  Spain,  Africa,  Sicily  and  Sardinia  swore  the  same  al- 
legiance to  me.  There  were  more  than  seven  hundred  senators 
who  at  that  time  fought  under  my  standards,  and  among 
these,  up  to  the  day  on  which  these  words  are  written,  eighty- 
three  have  either  before  or  since  been  made  consuls,  and  about 
one  hundred  and  seventy  have  been  made  priests. 

XXVI 

I  HAVE  extended  the  boundaries  of  all  the  provinces  of  the 
Roman  people  which  were  bordered  by  nations  not  yet  sub- 
jected to  our  sway.  I  have  reduced  to  a  state  of  peace  the 
Gallic  and  Spanish  provinces,  and  Germany,  the  lands  in- 
closed by  the  ocean  from  Gades  to  the  mouth  of  the  Elbe. 
The  Alps  from  the  region  nearest  the  Adriatic  as  far  as  the 
Tuscan  Sea  I  have  brought  into  a  state  of  peace,  without  wag- 
ing an  unjust  war  upon  any  people.  My  fleet  has  navigated 
the  ocean  from  the  mouth  of  the  Rhine  as  far  as  the  boun- 
daries of  the  Cimbri,  where  before  that  time  no  Roman  had 
ever  penetrated  by  land  or  sea ;  and  the  Cimbri  and  Charydes 
and  Semnones  and  other  German  peoples  of  that  section,  by 
means  of  legates,  sought  my  friendship  and  that  of  the  Roman 
people.  By  my  command  and  under  my  auspices  two  armies 
at  almost  the  same  time  have  been  led  into  Ethiopia  and  into 
Arabia,  which  is  called  "the  Happy,"  and  very  many  of  the 
enemy  of  both  peoples  have  fallen  in  battle,  and  many  towns 
have  been  captured.  Into  Ethiopia  the  advance  was  as  far 
as  Nabata,  which  is  next  to  Meroe.  In  Arabia  the  army  pene- 
trated as  far  as  the  confines  of  the  Sabaei,  to  the  town  Mariba. 

"  The  allusion  is  to  Sextus  Pompeius,  whose  fleets,  manned  largely  by 
slaves,  cut  off  the  grain  ships  on  their  way  to  Rome. 


152  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

xx  vn 

I  HAVE  added  Egypt  to  the  empire  of  the  Roman  people.  Of 
greater  Armenia,  when  its  king  Artaxes  was  killed  I  could 
have  made  a  province,  but  I  preferred,  after  the  example  of 
our  fathers,  to  deliver  that  kingdom  to  Tigranes,  the  son  of 
king  Artavasdes,  and  grandson  of  king  Tigranes;  and  this  I 
did  through  Tiberius  Nero,  who  was  then  my  son-in-law. 
And  afterwards,  when  the  same  people  became  turbulent  and 
rebellious,  they  were  subdued  by  Gaius,  my  son,  and  I  gave 
the  sovereignty  over  them  to  king  Ariobarzanes,  the  son  of 
Artabazes,  king  of  the  Medes,  and  after  his  death  to  his  son 
Artavasdes.  AVhen  he  was  killed  I  sent  into  that  kingdom 
Tigranes,  who  was  sprung  from  the  royal  house  of  the  Ar- 
menians. I  recovered  all  the  provinces  across  the  Adriatic 
Sea,  which  extend  toward  the  east,  and  Cyrenaica,  at  that 
time  for  the  most  part  in  the  possession  of  kings,  together 
with  Sicily  and  Sardinia,  which  had  been  engaged  in  a  servile 
war. 

xxvin 

I  HAVE  established  colonies  of  soldiers  in  Africa,  Sicily,  Mace- 
donia, the  two  Spains,  Achaia,  Asia,  Syria,  Gallia  Narbonensis 
and  Pisidia.  Italy  also  has  twenty-eight  colonies  established 
under  my  auspices,  which  within  my  lifetime  have  become 
very  famous  and  populous. 

XXIX 

I  HAVE  recovered  from  Spain  and  Gaul,  and  from  the  Dal- 
matians, after  conquering  the  enemy,  many  military  standards 
which  had  been  lost  by  other  leaders.  I  have  compelled  the 
Parthians  to  give  up  to  me  the  spoils  and  standards  of  three 
Roman  armies,  and  as  suppliants  to  seek  the  friendship  of 
the  Roman  people.  Those  standards,  moreover,  I  have  de- 
posited in  the  sanctuary  which  is  in  the  temple  of  Mars  the 
Avenger. 

XXX 

THE  Pannonian  peoples,  whom  before  I  became  princeps,  no 
army  of  the  Roman  people  had  ever  attacked,  were  defeated 
by  Tiberius  Nero,  at  that  time  my  son-in-law  and  legate ;  and 
I  brougbt  them  under  subjection  to  the  empire  of  the  Roman 


AUGUSTUS  C^SAR  153 

people,  and  extended  the  boundaries  of  Illyricum  to  the  bank 
of  the  river  Danube.  When  an  army  of  the  Dacians  crossed 
this  river,  it  was  defeated  and  destroyed,  and  afterwards  my 
army,  led  across  the  Danube,  compelled  the  Dacian  people  to 
submit  to  the  sway  of  the  Roman  people. 

XXXI 

EMBASSIES  have  been  many  times  sent  to  me  from  the  kings  of 
India,  a  thing  never  before  seen  in  the  case  of  any  ruler  of  the 
Romans.  Our  friendship  has  been  sought  by  means  of  am- 
bassadors by  the  Bastarnae  and  the  Scythians,  and  by  the 
kings  of  the  Sarmatae,  who  are  on  either  side  of  the  Tanais, 
and  by  the  kings  of  the  Albani,  the  Hiberi,  and  the  Medes. 

xxxn 

To  me  have  betaken  themselves  as  suppliants  the  kings  of  the 
Parthians,  Tiridates,  and  later,  Phraates,  the  son  of  king 
Phraates;  of  the  Medes,  Artavasdes;  of  the  Adiabeni,  Ar- 
taxares;  of  the  Britons,  Dumnobellaunus  and  Tim  ;  of 
the  Sicambri,  Maelo;  and  of  the  Marcomanian  Suevi, 
rus.  Phraates,  king  of  the  Parthians,  son  of  Orodes,  sent  all 
his  children  and  grandchildren  into  Italy  to  me,  not  because 
he  had  been  conquered  in  war,  but  rather  seeking  our  friend- 
ship by  means  of  his  children  as  pledges.  Since  I  have  been 
princeps  very  many  other  races  have  made  proof  of  the  good 
faith  of  the  Roman  people,  who  never  before  had  had  any 
interchange  of  embassies  and  friendship  with  the  Roman 
people. 

XXXIII 

FROM  me  the  peoples  of  the  Parthians  and  of  the  Medes  have 
received  the  kings  they  asked  for  through  ambassadors,  the 
chief  men  of  those  peoples :  the  Parthians,  Vonones,  the  son  of 
king  Phraates,  and  grandson  of  king  Orodes;  the  Medes, 
Ariobarzanes,  the  son  of  king  Artavasdes,  and  grandson  of 
king  Ariobarzanes. 

XXXIV 

IN  my  sixth  and  seventh  consulships,  when  I  had  put  an  end 
to  the  civil  wars,  after  having  obtained  complete  control  of 


154-  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

affairs  by  universal  consent,  I  transferred  the  commonwealth 
from  my  own  dominion  to  the  authority  of  the  senate  and 
Roman  people.  In  return  for  this  favor  on  my  part  I  received 
by  decree  of  the  senate  the  title  Augustus,  the  door-posts  of 
my  house  were  publicly  decked  with  laurels,  a  civic  crown 
was  fixed  above  my  door,  and  in  the  Julian  Curia  was  placed 
a  golden  shield,  which,  by  its  inscription,  bore  witness  that  it 
was  given  to  me  by  the  senate  and  Roman  people  on  account 
of  my  valor,  clemency,  justice  and  piety.  After  that  time  I 
excelled  all  others  in  dignity,  but  of  power  I  held  no  more 
than  those  also  held  who  were  my  colleagues  in  any  mag- 
istracy. 

xxxv 

WHILE  I  was  consul  for  the  thirteenth  time  the  senate  and  the 
equestrian  order  and  the  entire  Roman  people  gave  me  the 
title  of  father  of  the  fatherland,  and  decreed  that  it  should 
be  inscribed  upon  the  vestibule  of  my  house  and  in  the  Curia, 
and  in  the  Augustan  Forum  beneath  the  quadriga  which  had 
been,  by  decree  of  the  senate,  set  up  in  my  honor.  When  I 
wrote  these  words  I  was  in  my  seventy-sixth  year. 


END   OF   THE   INSCRIPTION    OF    AUGUSTUS 


FLAVIVS  JOSEPHUS 


JOSEPHUS 

THE  ABLE  JEWISH   GENERAL  AND  REBEL  AGAINST  ROME 

37-100  A.  D. 
(INTRODUCTORY  NOTE) 

Flavius  Josephus  was  one  of  the  leaders  of  the  Jews  in  their  great 
revolt  against  Rome.  This  uprising  began  in  the  year  66,  was  partly 
crushed  in  67  by  the  Eoman  general,  and  afterward  emperor,  Vespasian, 
and  was  completely  ended  in  70  with  the  destruction  of  Jerusalem  by 
Titus.  Josephus  after  valiant  fighting  was  defeated  and  captured  by 
Vespasian  in  67.  He  tells  us  that  he  made  a  friend  of  his  captor  by 
predicting  that  Vespasian  would  become  emperor.  At  all  events,  Jo- 
sephus was  spared  and  befriended  by  the  Romans  and  did  much  to  miti- 
gate their  severity  toward  his  unhappy  countrymen. 

In  the  years  that  followed  the  Jewish  overthrow,  Josephus  wrote  sev- 
eral books,  including  a  patriotic  ' '  History  of  the  Jews, ' '  which  tells 
somewhat  of  his  own  fighting  and  capture,  and  also  his  celebrated  ' '  Auto- 
biography. ' '  The  latter  he  wrote  about  the  year  90,  both  in  Hebrew  and 
in  Greek,  seeking  to  defend  his  own  career,  justifying  himself  to  his 
countrymen  and  at  the  same  time  excusing  himself  to  the  Romans.  With 
this  double  purpose  in  view  his  book  becomes  what  we  would  to-day  call 
a  "defense"  or  "apology,"  and  a  reader  may  well  doubt  whether  the 
every  act  and  thought  of  Josephus  was  really  as  high-minded  and  as 
considerate  of  both  Jews  and  Romans  as  the  sore  beset  author  pictures 
it.  Of  his  general  patriotism  and  honesty  there  is  however  no  doubt  at 
all.  Josephus  was  a  remarkable  and  able  man;  and  a  comparison  with 
the  earlier  works  in  our  volume  will  convince  the  reader  that  his  book 
comes  nearer  to  being  ' '  a  portrait  of  a  human  soul ' '  than  any  one  of 
the  self -narratives  that  preceded  it. 

THE    DEFENSE    OF   FLAVIUS   JOSEPHUS 

THE  family  from  which  I  am  derived  is  not  an  ignoble  one, 
but  hath  descended  all  along  from  the  priests ;  and  as  nobility 
among  several  people  is  of  a  different  origin,  so  with  us  to  be 
of  the  sacerdotal  dignity,  is  an  indication  of  the  splendor  of 

155 


156  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

a  family.  Now,  I  am  not  only  sprung  from  a  sacerdotal  fam- 
ily in  general,  but  from  the  first  of  the  twenty-four  courses; 
and  as  among  us  there  is  not  only  a  considerable  difference 
between  one  family  of  each  course  and  another,  I  am  of  the 
chief  family  of  that  first  course  also;  nay,  further,  by  my 
mother  I  am  of  the  royal  blood ;  for  the  children  of  Asmoneus, 
from  whom  that  family  was  derived,  had  both  the  office  of  the 
high  priesthood  and  the  dignity  of  a  king  for  a  long  time  to- 
gether. I  will  accordingly  set  down  my  progenitors  in  order. 
My  grandfather's  father  was  named  Simon,  with  the  addition 
of  Psellus :  he  lived  at  the  same  time  with  that  son  of  Simon 
the  high  priest,  who  first  of  all  the  high  priests  was  named 
Hyrcanus.  This  Simon  Psellus  had  nine  sons,  one  of  whom 
was  Matthias,  called  Ephlias:  he  married  the  daughter  of 
Jonathan  the  high  priest ;  which  Jonathan  was  the  first  of  the 
sons  of  Asmoneus,  who  was  high  priest,  and  was  the  brother  of 
Simon  the  high  priest  also.  This  Matthias  had  a  son  called 
Matthias  Curtus,  and  that  in  the  first  year  of  the  government 
of  Hyrcanus:  his  son's  name  was  Joseph,  born  in  the  ninth 
year  of  the  reign  of  Alexandra:  his  son  Matthias  was  born 
in  the  tenth  year  of  the  reign  of  Archelaus ;  as  was  I  born  to 
Matthias  in  the  first  year  of  the  reign  of  Caius  Caesar.  I  have 
three  sons:  Hyrcanus,  the  eldest,  was  born  in  the  fourth  year 
of  the  reign  of  Vespasian,  as  was  Justus  born  in  the  seventh, 
and  Agrippa  in  the  ninth.  Thus  have  I  set  down  the  geneal- 
ogy of  my  family  as  I  have  found  it  described  in  the  public 
records,  and  so  bid  adieu  to  those  who  calumniate  me,  [as  of  a 
lower  origin]. 

Now,  my  father  Matthias  was  not  only  eminent  on  account 
of  his  nobility,  but  had  a  higher  commendation  on  account  of 
his  righteousness;  and  was  in  great  reputation  in  Jerusalem, 
the  greatest  city  we  have.  I  was  myself  brought  up  with  my 
brother,  whose  name  was  Matthias,  for  he  was  my  own  brother, 
by  both  father  and  mother;  and  I  made  mighty  proficiency 
in  the  improvements  of  my  learning,  and  appeared  to  have 
both  a  great  memory  and  understanding.  Moreover,  when  I 
was  a  child,  and  about  fourteen  years  of  age,  I  was  com- 
mended by  all  for  the  love  I  had  to  learning;  on  which  account 
the  high  priests  and  principal  men  of  the  city  came  then  fre- 
quently to  me  together,  in  order  to  know  my  opinion  about 


JOSEPHUS  157 

the  accurate  understanding  of  points  of  the  law ;  and  when  I 
was  about  sixteen  years  old,  I  had  a  mind  to  make  trial  of 
the  several  sects  that  were  among  us.  These  sects  are  three : — 
The  first  is  that  of  the  Pharisees,  the  second  that  of  the  Sad- 
ducees,  and  the  third  that  of  the  Essens,  as  we  have  frequently 
told  you;  for  I  thought  that  by  this  means  I  might  choose 
the  best,  if  I  were  once  acquainted  with  them  all;  so  I  con- 
tented myself  with  hard  fare,  and  underwent  great  difficulties, 
and  went  through  them  all.  Nor  did  I  content  myself  with 
these  trials  only;  but  when  I  was  informed  that  one,  whose 
name  was  Banus,  lived  in  the  desert,  and  used  no  other  cloth- 
ing than  grew  upon  trees,  and  had  no  other  food  than  what 
grew  of  its  own  accord,  and  bathed  himself  in  cold  water 
frequently,  both  night  and  day,  in  order  to  preserve  his 
chastity,  I  imitated  him  in  those  things,  and  continued  with 
him  three  years.  So  when  I  had  accomplished  my  desires,  I 
returned  back  to  the  city,  being  now  nineteen  years  old,  and 
began  to  conduct  myself  according  to  the  rules  of  the  sect 
of  the  Pharisees,  which  is  of  kin  to  the  sect  of  the  Stoics,  as 
the  Greeks  call  them. 

But  when  I  was  in  the  twenty-sixth  year  of  my  age,  it  hap- 
pened that  I  took  a  voyage  to  Rome ;  and  this  on  the  occasion 
which  I  shall  now  describe.  At  the  time  when  Felix  was  proc- 
urator of  Judea,  there  were  certain  priests  of  my  acquaint- 
ance, and  very  excellent  persons  they  were,  whom  on  a  small 
and  trifling  occasion  lie  had  put  into  bonds,  and  sent  to  Rome 
to  plead  their  cause  before  Caesar.  These  I  was  desirous  to 
procure  deliverance  for;  and  that  especially  because  I  was 
informed  that  they  were  not  unmindful  of  rjiety  towards  God, 
even  under  their  afflictions,  but  supported  themselves  with 
figs  and  nuts.  Accordingly,  I  came  to  Rome,  though  it  were 
through  a  great  number  of  hazards,  by  sea;  for,  as  our  ship 
was  drowned  in  the  Adriatic  Sea,  we  that  were  in  it,  being 
about  six  hundred  in  number,  swam  for  our  lives  all  the  night ; 
when,  upon  the  first  appearance  of  the  day,  and  upon  our  sight 
of  a  ship  of  Gyrene,  I  and  some  others,  eighty  in  all,  by  God 's 
providence,  survived  the  rest,  and  were  taken  up  into  the 
other  ship:  and  when  I  had  thus  escaped,  and  was  come  to 
Dicearchia,  which  the  Italians  call  Puteoli,  I  became  ac- 
quainted with  Aliturius,  an  actor  of  plays,  and  much  beloved 


158  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

by  Nero,  but  a  Jew  by  birth ;  and  through  his  interest  became 
known  to  Poppea,  Cassar's  wife ;  and  took  care,  as  soon  as  pos- 
sible, to  entreat  her  to  procure  that  the  priests  might  be  set 
at  liberty ;  and  when,  besides  this  favor,  I  had  obtained  many 
presents  from  Poppea,  I  returned  home  again. 

And  now  I  perceived  innovations  were  already  begun,  and 
that  there  were  a  great  many  very  much  elevated  in  hopes  of 
a  revolt  from  the  Romans.  I  therefore  endeavored  to  put  a 
stop  to  these  tumultuous  persons,  and  persuaded  them  to 
change  their  minds ;  and  laid  before  their  eyes  against  whom  it 
was  that  they  were  going  to  fight,  and  told  them  that  they 
were  inferior  to  the  Romans  not  only  in  martial  skill  but  also 
in  good  fortune,  and  desired  them  not  rashly,  and  after  the 
most  foolish  manner,  to  bring  on  the  dangers  of  the  most  ter- 
rible mischiefs  upon  their  country,  upon  their  families,  and 
upon  themselves.  And  this  I  said  with  vehement  exhortation, 
because  I  foresaw  that  the  end  of  such  a  war  would  be  most 
unfortunate  to  us.  But  I  could  not  persuade  them;  for  the 
madness  of  desperate  men  was  quite  too  hard  for  me  in  spite 
of  my  efforts. 

I  was  then  afraid,  lest,  by  inculcating  these  things  so  often, 
I  should  incur  their  hatred  and  their  suspicions,  as  if  I 
were  of  our  enemies'  party,  and  should  run  into  the  danger  of 
being  seized  by  them  and  slain,  since  they  were  already  pos- 
sessed of  Antonia,  which  was  the  citadel ;  so  I  retired  into  the 
inner  court  of  the  temple ;  yet  did  I  go  out  of  the  temple  again 
after  Manahem  and  the  principal  of  the  band  of  robbers  were 
put  to  death,  when  I  abode  among  the  high  priests  and  the 
chief  of  the  Pharisees ;  but  no  small  fear  seized  upon  us  when 
we  saw  the  people  in  arms,  while  we  ourselves  knew  not  what 
we  should  do,  and  were  not  able  to  restrain  the  seditious. 
However,  as  the  danger  was  directly  upon  us,  we  pretended 
that  we  were  of  the  same  opinion  with  them ;  but  only  advised 
them  to  be  quiet  for  the  present  and  to  let  the  enemy  go 
away,  still  hoping  that  Gessius  [Florus]  would  not  be  long 
ere  he  came,  and  that  with  great  forces,  and  so  put  an  end  to 
these  seditious  proceedings. 

But,  upon  his  coming  and  fighting,  he  was  beaten,  and  a 
great  many  of  those  that  were  with  him  fell ;  and  this  dis- 
grace which  Gessius  received,  became  the  calamity  of  our 


JOSEPHUS  159 

whole  nation ;  for  those  that  were  fond  of  the  war  were  so  far 
elevated  with  this  success  that  they  had  hopes  of  finally  con- 
quering the  Romans.  Of  which  war  another  occasion  was 
ministered;  which  was  this: — Those  that  dwelt  in  the  neigh- 
boring cities  of  Syria  seized  upon  such  Jews  as  dwelt  among 
them,  with  their  wives  and  children,  and  slew  them,  when 
they  had  not  the  least  occasion  of  complaint  against  them; 
for  they  did  neither  attempt  any  innovation  or  revolt  from 
the  Romans,  nor  had  they  given  any  marks  of  hatred  or 
treacherous  designs  towards  the  Syrians;  but  what  was  done 
by  the  inhabitants  of  Scythopolis  was  the  most  impious  and 
the  most  highly  criminal  of  all ;  for  when  the  Jews,  their 
enemies,  came  upon  them  from  without,  they  forced  the  Jews 
that  were  among  them  to  bear  arms  against  their  own  coun- 
trymen, which  it  is  unlawful  for  us  to  do ;  and  when,  by 
their  assistance,  they  had  joined  battle  with  those  who  at- 
tacked them,  and  had  beaten  them,  after  that  victory  they 
forgot  the  assurances  they  had  given  these  their  fellow-citizens 
and  confederates,  and  slew  them  all,  being  in  number  many 
ten  thousands,  [13,000.]  The  like  miseries  were  undergone 
by  those  Jews  that  were  the  inhabitants  of  Damascus;  but 
we  have  given  a  more  accurate  account  of  these  things  in  the 
books  of  the  Jewish  war.  I  only  mention  them  now,  because  I 
would  demonstrate  to  my  readers  that  the  Jews'  war  with 
the  Romans  was  not  voluntary,  but  that,  for  the  main,  they 
were  forced  by  necessity  to  enter  into  it. 

So  when  Gessius  had  been  beaten,  as  we  have  said  already, 
the  principal  men  of  Jerusalem,  seeing  that  the  robbers  and 
innovators  had  arms  in  great  plenty,  and  fearing  lest  they, 
while  they  were  unprovided  with  arms,  should  be  in  subjec- 
tion to  their  enemies — which  also  came  to  be  the  case  after- 
ward— and,  being  informed  that  all  Galilee  had  not  yet  re- 
volted from  the  Romans,  but  that  some  part  of  it  was  still 
quiet,  they  sent  me  and  two  others  of  the  priests,  who  were 
men  of  excellent  characters,  Joazar  and  Judas,  in  order  to 
persuade  the  ill  men  there  to  lay  down  their  arms,  and  to 
teach  them  this  lesson, — That  it  were  better  to  have  those 
arms  reserved  for  the  most  courageous  men  that  the  nation 
had,  [than  to  be  kept  there,]  for  that  it  had  been  resolved, 
That  those  our  best  men  should  always  have  their  arms  ready 


HJO  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

against  futurity,  but  still  so  that  they  should  wait  to  see  what 
the  Romans  would  do. 

When  I  had  therefore  received  these  instructions,  I  came 
into  Galilee,  and  found  the  people  of  Sepphoris  in  no  small 
agony  about  their  country,  by  reason  that  the  Galileans  had 
resolved  to  plunder  it,  on  account  of  the  friendship  they  had 
with  the  Romans ;  and  because  they  had  given  their  right 
hand,  and  made  a  league  with  Cestius  Gallus,  the  president 
of  Syria :  but  I  delivered  them  all  out  of  the  fear  they  were 
in,  and  persuaded  the  multitude  to  deal  kindly  with  them,  and 
permitted  them  to  send  to  those  that  were  their  own  hostages 
with  Gessius  to  Dora,  which  is  a  city  of  Phoenicia,  as  often 
as  they  pleased ;  though  I  still  found  the  inhabitants  of  Ti- 
berias ready  to  take  arms. 

Now,  as  soon  as  I  was  come  into  Galilee,  and  had  learned 
the  state  of  things  by  the  information  of  such  as  told  me  of 
them,  I  wrote  to  the  sanhedrim  at  Jerusalem  about  them,  and 
required  their  direction  what  I  should  do.  Their  direction 
was,  that  I  should  continue  there,  and  that,  if  my  fellow- 
legates  were  willing,  I  should  join  with  them  in  the  care  of 
Galilee.  But  those  my  fellow-legates,  having  gotten  great 
riches  from  those  tithes  which  as  priests  were  their  dues, 
and  were  given  to  them,  determined  to  return  to  their  own 
country.  Yet  when  I  desired  them  to  stay  so  long,  that  we 
might  first  settle  the  public  affairs,  they  complied  with  me. 
So  I  removed,  together  with  them,  from  the  city  of  Sepphoris, 
and  came  to  a  certain  village  called  Bethmaus,  four  furlongs 
distant  from  Tiberias;  and  thence  I  sent  messengers  to  the 
senate  of  Tiberias,  and  desired  that  the  principal  men  of 
the  city  would  come  to  me :  and  when  they  were  come,  Justus 
himself  being  also  with  them,  I  told  them  that  I  was  sent  to 
them  by  the  people  of  Jerusalem  as  a  legate,  together  with 
these  other  priests,  in  order  to  persuade  them  to  demolish 
that  house  which  Herod  the  tetrarch  had  built  there,  and  which 
had  the  figures  of  living  creatures  in  it,  although  our  laws 
have  forbidden  us  to  make  any  such  figures ;  and  I  desired 
that  they  would  give  us  leave  so  to  do  immediately.  But 
for  a  good  while  Capellus  and  the  principal  men  belonging  to 
the  city  would  not  give  us  leave,  but  were  at  length  entirety 
overcome  by  us.  and  were  induced  to  be  of  our  opinion.  So 


JOSEPHUS  161 

Jesus,1  the  son  of  Sapphias,  one  of  those  whom  we  have 
already  mentioned  as  the  leader  of  a  seditious  tumult  of  mar- 
iners and  poor  people,  prevented  us,  and  took  with  him  certain 
Galileans,  and  set  the  entire  palace  on  fire,  and  thought  he 
should  get  a  great  deal  of  money  thereby,  because  he  saw 
some  of  the  roofs  gilt  with  gold.  They  also  plundered  a  great 
deal  of  the  furniture,  which  was  done  without  our  approba- 
tion ;  for,  after  we  had  discoursed  with  Capellus  and  the  prin- 
cipal men  of  the  city,  we  departed  from  Bethmaus,  and  went 
into  Upper  Galilee.  But  Jesus  and  his  party  slew  all  the 
Greeks  that  were  inhabitants  of  Tiberias,  and  as  many  others 
as  were  their  enemies  before  the  war  began. 

When  I  understood  this  state  of  things,  I  was  greatly 
provoked,  and  went  down  to  Tiberias,  and  took  all  the  care 
I  could  of  the  royal  furniture,  to  recover  all  that  could  be 
recovered  from  such  as  had  plundered  it.  They  consisted  of 
candlesticks  made  of  Corinthian  brass,  and  of  royal  tables, 
and  of  a  great  quantity  of  uncoined  silver;  and  I  resolved 
to  preserve  whatsoever  came  to  my  hand  for  the  king.  So  I 
sent  for  ten  of  the  principal  men  of  the  senate,  and  for  Capel- 
lus, the  son  of  Antyllus,  and  committed  the  furniture  to 
them,  with  this  charge,  that  they  should  part  with  it  to  nobody 
else  but  to  myself.  From  thence,  I  and  my  fellow-legates 
went  to  Gischala,  to  John,  as  desirous  to  know  his  intentions, 
and  soon  saw  that  he  was  for  innovations,  and  had  a  mind 
to  the  principality,  for  he  desired  me  to  give  him  authority  to 
carry  off  that  corn  which  belonged  to  Csesar,  arid  lay  in  the 
villages  of  Upper  Galilee ;  and  he  pretended  that  he  would 
expend  what  it  came  to  in  building  the  walls  of  his  own  city. 
But  when  I  perceived  what  he  endeavored  at,  and  what  he 
had  in  his  mind,  I  said  I  would  not  permit  him  so  to  do; 
for  that  I  thought  either  to  keep  it  for  the  Romans  or  for 
myself,  now  I  was  intrusted  with  the  public  affairs  there 
by  the  people  of  Jerusalem:  but,  when  he  was  not  able  to 
prevail  with  me,  he  betook  himself  to  my  fellow-legates;  for 
they  had  no  sagacity  in  providing  for  futurity,  and  were  very 
ready  to  take  bribes :  so  he  corrupted  them  with  money  to 
decree  that  all  that  corn  which  was  within  his  province  should 

1  Jesus  was  not  an  uncommon  name  among  the  Jews.     This  man  has 
no  relation  with  the  Christ. 
A.  v.  i—ii 


162  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

be  delivered  to  him ;  while  I,  who  was  but  one,  was  outvoted 
by  two,  and  held  my  tongue.  Then  did  John  introduce  an- 
other cunning  contrivance  of  his ;  for  he  said  that  those  Jews 
who  inhabited  Cassarea  Philippi,  and  were  shut  up  by  the 
order  of  the  king's  deputy  there,  had  sent  to  him  to  desire 
him  that,  since  they  had  no  oil  that  was  pure  for  their  use,  he 
would  provide  a  sufficient  quantity  of  such  oil  for  them,  lest 
they  should  be  forced  to  make  use  of  oil  that  came  from  the 
Greeks,  and  thereby  transgress  their  own  laws.  Now  this 
was  said  by  John,  not  out  of  his  regard  to  religion,  but  out 
of  his  most  flagrant  desire  of  gain ;  for  he  knew  that  two 
sectaries  were  sold  with  them  of  Coesarea  for  one  drachma ; 
but  that  at  Gischala  fourscore  sectaries  were  sold  for  four 
sectaries :  so  he  gave  order  that  all  the  oil  which  was  there 
should  be  carried  away,  as  having  my  permission  for  so 
doing;  which  yet  I  did  not  grant  him  voluntarily,  but  only 
out  of  fear  of  the  multitude,  since,  if  I  had  forbidden  him, 
I  should  have  been  stoned  by  them.  When  I  had  therefore 
permitted  this  to  be  done  by  John,  he  gained  vast  sums  of 
money  by  this  his  knavery. 

But  when  I  had  dismissed  my  fellow-legates,  and  sent  them 
back  to  Jerusalem,  I  took  care  to  have  arms  provided,  and  the 
cities  fortified ;  and  when  I  had  sent  for  the  most  hardy 
among  the  robbers,  I  saw  that  it  was  not  in  my  power  to  take 
their  arms  from  them ;  but  I  persuaded  the  multitude  to  allow 
them  money  as  pay,  and  told  them  it  was  better  for  them  to 
give  them  a  little  willingly  rather  than  to  [be  forced  to] 
overlook  them  when  they  plundered  their  goods  from  them. 
And  when  I  had  obliged  them  to  take  an  oath  not  to  come 
into  that  country,  unless  they  were  invited  to  come,  or  else 
when  they  had  not  their  pay  given  them,  I  dismissed  them, 
and  charged  them  neither  to  make  an  expedition  against  the 
Romans,  nor  against  those  their  neighbors  that  lay  round 
about  them ;  for  my  first  care  was  to  keep  Galilee  in  peace. 
So  I  was  willing  to  have  the  principal  of  the  Galileans,  in 
all  seventy,  as  hostages  for  their  fidelity,  but  still  under  the 
notion  of  friendship.  Accordingly,  I  made  them  my  friends 
and  companions  as  I  journeyed,  and  set  them  to  judge  causes; 
and  with  their  approbation  it  was  that  I  gave  my  sentences, 
while  I  endeavored  not  to  mistake  what  justice  required,  and 


JOSEPHUS  163 

to  keep  my  hands  clear  of  all  bribery  in  those  determinations. 

I  was  now  about  the  thirtieth  year  of  my  age;  in  which 
time  of  life  it  is  a  hard  thing  for  any  one  to  escape  the  cal- 
umnies of  the  envious,  although  he  restrain  himself  from  ful- 
filling any  unlawful  desires,  especially  where  a  person  is  in 
great  authority.  Yet  did  I  preserve  every  woman  free  from 
injuries ;  and  as  to  what  presents  were  offered  me,  I  despised 
them,  as  not  standing  in  need  of  them;  nor  indeed  would  I 
take  those  tithes,  which  were  due  to  me  as  a  priest,  from 
those  that  brought  them.  Yet  do  I  confess,  that  I  took  part 
of  the  spoils  of  those  Syrians  which  inhabited  the  cities  that 
adjoined  to  us,  when  I  had  conquered  them,  and  that  I  sent 
them  to  my  kindred  at  Jerusalem;  although,  when  I  twice 
took  Sepphoris  by  force,  and  Tiberias  four  times,  and  Gadara 
once,  and  when  I  had  subdued  and  taken  John,  who  often  laid 
treacherous  snares  for  me,  I  did  not  punish  [with  death] 
either  him  or  any  of  the  people  fore-named,  as  the  progress 
of  this  discourse  will  show.  And  on  this  account,  I  suppose, 
it  was  that  God,  who  is  never  unacquainted  with  those  that 
do  as  they  ought  to  do,  delivered  me  still  out  of  the  hands 
of  these  my  enemies,  and  afterwards  preserved  me  when  I  fell 
into  those  many  dangers  which  I  shall  relate  hereafter. 

Now  the  multitude  of  the  Galileans  had  that  great  kindness 
for  me,  and  fidelity  to  me,  that  when  their  cities  were  taken 
by  force,  and  their  wives  and  children  carried  into  slavery, 
they  did  not  so  deeply  lament  for  their  own  calamities,  as 
they  were  solicitous  for  my  preservation.  But  when  John  saw 
this,  he  envied  me,  and  wrote  to  me,  desiring  that  I  would 
give  him  leave  to  come  down,  and  make  use  of  the  hot  baths 
of  Tiberias  for  the  recovery  of  the  health  of  his  body.  Ac- 
cordingly, I  did  not  hinder  him,  as  having  no  suspicion  of 
any  wicked  designs  of  his;  and  I  wrote  to  those  to  whom  I 
had  committed  the  administration  of  the  affairs  of  Tiberias 
by  name,  that  they  should  provide  a  lodging  for  John,  and 
for  such  as  should  come  with  him,  and  should  procure  him 
what  necessaries  soever  he  should  stand  in  need  of.  Now 
at  this  time  my  abode  was  in  a  village  of  Galilee,  which  is 
named  Cana. 

But  when  John  was  come  to  the  city  of  Tiberias,  he  per- 
suaded the  men  to  revolt  from  their  fidelity  to  me,  and  to 


LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

adhere  to  him ;  and  many  of  them  gladly  received  that  invi- 
tation of  his,  as  ever  fond  of  innovations,  and  by  nature  dis- 
posed to  changes,  and  delighting  in  seditions;  but  they  were 
chiefly  Justus  and  his  father  Pistus  that  were  earnest  for 
their  revolt  from  me,  and  their  adherence  to  John.  But  I 
came  upon  them,  and  prevented  them ;  for  a  messenger  had 
come  to  me  from  Silas,  whom  I  had  made  governor  of  Tibe- 
rias, as  I  have  said  already,  and  had  told  me  of  the  inclina- 
tions of  the  people  of  Tiberias,  and  advised  me  to  make  haste 
thither;  for  that  if  I  made  any  delay,  the  city  would  come 
under  another  jurisdiction.  Upon  the  receipt  of  this  letter 
of  Silas,  I  took  two  hundred  men  along  with  me,  and  traveled 
all  night,  having  sent  before  a  messenger  to  let  the  people  of 
Tiberias  know  that  I  was  coming  to  them.  When  I  came 
near  to  the  city,  which  was  early  in  the  morning,  the  multi- 
tude came  out  to  meet  me,  and  John  came  with  them,  and 
saluted  me,  but  in  a  most  disturbed  manner,  as  being  afraid 
that  my  coming  was  to  call  him  to  an  account  for  what  I  was 
now  sensible  he  was  doing.  So  he,  in  great  haste,  went  to  his 
lodging.  But  when  I  was  in  the  open  place  of  the  city,  having 
dismissed  the  guards  I  had  about  mo,  excepting  one,  and  ten 
armed  men  that  were  with  him,  I  attempted  to  make  a  speech 
to  the  multitude  of  the  people  of  Tiberias;  and  standing  on 
a  certain  elevated  place,  I  entreated  them  not  to  be  so  hasty 
in  their  revolt ;  for  that  such  a  change  in  their  behavior  would 
be  to  their  reproach,  and  that  they  would  then  justly  be  sus- 
pected by  those  that  should  be  their  governors  hereafter,  as 
if  they  were  not  likely  to  be  faithful  to  them  neither. 

But  before  I  had  spoken  all  I  designed,  I  heard  one  of 
my  own  domestics  bidding  me  come  down ;  for  that  it  was  not 
a  proper  time  to  take  care  of  retaining  the  good-will  of  the 
people  of  Tiberias,  but  to  provide  for  my  own  safety,  and 
escape  my  enemies  there ;  for  John  had  chosen  the  most  trusty 
of  those  armed  men  that  were  about  him  out  of  those  thousand 
that  he  had  with  him,  and  had  given  them  orders,  when  he 
sent  them  to  kill  me,  having  learned  that  I  was  alone,  excepting 
some  of  my  domestic's.  So  those  that  were  sent  came,  as  they 
were  ordered,  and  they  had  executed  what  they  came  about, 
had  I  not  leaped  down  from  the  elevation  I  stood  on,  and  with 
one  of  my  guards,  whose  name  was  James,  been  carried  [out 


JOSEPHUS  165 

of  the  crowd]  upon  the  back  of  one  Herod  of  Tiberias,  and 
guided  by  him  down  to  the  lake,  where  I  seized  a  ship,  and 
got  into  it,  and  escaped  my  enemies  unexpectedly,  and  came 
to  Tarichese. 

Now,  as  soon  as  the  inhabitants  of  that  city  understood 
the  perfidiousness  of  the  people  of  Tiberias,  they  were  greatly 
provoked  at  them.  So  they  snatched  up  their  arms,  and  de- 
sired me  to  be  their  leader  against  them ;  for  they  said  they 
would  avenge  their  commander's  cause  upon  them.  They 
also  carried  the  report  of  what  had  been  done  to  me  to  all  the 
Galileans,  and  eagerly  endeavored  to  irritate  them  against 
the  people  of  Tiberias,  and  desired  that  vast  numbers  of  them 
would  get  together,  and  come  to  them,  that  they  might  act 
in  concert  with  their  commander,  what  should  be  deter- 
mined as  fit  to  be  done.  Accordingly,  the  Galileans  came  to 
me  in  great  numbers,  from  all  parts,  with  their  weapons,  and 
besought  me  to  assault  Tiberias,  to  take  it  by  force,  and  to 
demolish  it,  till  it  lay  even  with  the  ground,  and  then  to 
make  slaves  of  its  inhabitants,  with  their  wives  and  children. 
Those  that  were  Josephus's  friends  also,  and  had  escaped  out 
of  Tiberias,  gave  him  the  same  advice.  But  I  did  not  comply 
with  them,  thinking  it  a  terrible  thing  to  begin  a  civil  war 
among  them ;  for  I  thought  that  this  contention  ought  not 
to  proceed  further  than  words;  nay,  I  told  them  that  it  was 
not  for  their  own  advantage  to  do  what  they  would  have  me 
to  do,  while  the  Romans  expected  no  other  than  that  we  should 
destroy  one  another  by  our  mutual  seditions;  and  by  saying 
this,  I  put  a  stop  to  the  anger  of  the  Galileans. 

But  now  John  was  afraid  for  himself,  since  his  treachery 
had  proved  unsuccessful ;  so  he  took  the  armed  men  that  were 
about  him,  and  removed  from  Tiberias  to  Gischala,  and  wrote 
to  me  to  apologize  for  himself  concerning  what  had  been  done, 
as  if  it  had  been  done  without  his  approbation ;  and  desired 
me  to  have  no  suspicion  of  him  to  his  disadvantage.  He 
also  added  oaths  and  certain  horrible  curses  upon  himself, 
and  supposed  he  should  be  thereby  believed  in  the  points  he 
wrote  about  to  me. 

But  now  another  great  number  of  the  Galileans  came  to- 
gether again  with  their  weapons,  as  knowing  the  man,  how 
wicked  and  how  sadly  perjured  he  was,  and  desired  me  to  lead 


166  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

them  against  him,  and  promised  me  that  they  would  utterly 
destroy  both  him  and  Gischala.  Hereupon  I  professed  that  I 
was  obliged  to  them  for  their  readiness  to  serve  me ;  and  that 
I  would  more  than  requite  their  good-will  to  me.  However, 
I  entreated  them  to  restrain  themselves;  and  begged  of  them 
to  give  me  leave  to  do  what  I  intended,  which  was  to  put  an 
end  to  these  troubles  without  bloodshed ;  and  when  I  had  pre- 
vailed with  the  multitude  of  the  Galileans  to  let  me  do  so,  I 
came  to  Sepphoris. 

But  the  inhabitants  of  this  city  having  determined  to 
continue  in  their  allegiance  to  the  Romans,  were  afraid  of  my 
coming  to  them ;  and  tried,  by  putting  me  upon  another 
action,  to  divert  me,  that  they  might  be  freed  from  the  terror 
they  were  in.  Accordingly  they  sent  to  Jesus,  the  captain  of 
those  robbers  who  were  in  the  confines  of  Ptolemais,  and  prom- 
ised to  give  him  a  great  deal  of  money,  if  he  would  come 
with  those  forces  he  had  with  him,  which  were  in  number  eight 
hundred,  and  fight  with  us.  Accordingly  he  complied  with 
what  they  desired,  upon  the  promises  they  had  made  him,  and 
was  desirous  to  fall  upon  us  when  we  were  unprepared  for 
him,  and  knew  nothing  of  his  coming  beforehand :  so  he  sent 
to  me,  and  desired  that  I  would  give  him  leave  to  come  and 
salute  me.  When  I  had  given  him  that  leave,  which  I  did 
without  the  least  knowledge  of  his  treacherous  intentions  be- 
forehand, he  took  his  band  of  robbers,  and  made  haste  to  come 
to  me.  Yet  did  not  this  knavery  succeed  well  at  last ;  for,  as 
he  was  already  nearly  approaching,  one  of  those  with  him 
deserted  him,  and  came  to  me,  and  told  me  what  he  had 
undertaken  to  do.  When  I  was  informed  of  this,  I  went  into 
the  market-place,  and  pretended  to  know  nothing  of  his  treach- 
erous purpose.  I  took  with  me  many  Galileans  that  were 
armed,  as  also  some  of  those  of  Tiberias;  and  when  I  had 
given  orders  that  all  the  roads  should  be  carefully  guarded,  I 
charged  the  keepers  of  the  gates,  to  give  admittance  to  none 
but  Jesus,  when  he  came,  with  the  principal  of  his  men,  and 
to  exclude  the  rest;  and  in  case  they  aimed  to  force  them- 
selves in,  to  use  stripes  [in  order  to  repel  them.]  Accord- 
ingly, those  that  had  received  such  a  charge  did  as  they  were 
bidden,  and  Jesus  came  in  with  a  few  others ;  and  when  I  had 
ordered  him  to  throw  down  his  arms  immediately,  and  told 


JOSEPHUS  167 

him,  that  if  he  refused  so  to  do,  he  was  a  dead  man,  he  seeing 
armed  men  standing  all  round  about  him,  was  terrified,  and 
complied  ;  and  as  for  those  of  his  followers  that  were  excluded, 
when  they  were  informed  that  he  was  seized,  they  ran  away. 
I  then  called  Jesus  to  me  by  himself,  and  told  him,  that  "I 
was  not  a  stranger  to  that  treacherous  design  he  had  against 
me,  nor  was  I  ignorant  by  whom  he  was  sent  for ;  that,  how- 
ever, I  would  forgive  him  what  he  had  done  already,  if  he 
would  repent  of  it,  and  be  faithful  to  me  hereafter."  And 
thus,  upon  his  promise  to  do  all  that  I  desired,  I  let  him  go, 
and  gave  him  leave  to  get  those  whom  he  had  formerly  had 
with  him,  together  again.  But  I  threatened  the  inhabitants 
of  Sepphoris,  that,  if  they  would  not  leave  off  their  ungrateful 
treatment  of  me,  I  would  punish  them  sufficiently. 

At  this  time  it  was  that  two  great  men,  who  were  under  the 
jurisdiction  of  the  king  [Agrippa,]  came  to  me  out  of  the 
region  of  Trachonitis,  bringing  their  horses  and  their  arms, 
and  carrying  with  them  their  .  money  also ;  and  when  the 
Jews  would  force  them  to  be  circumcised,  if  they  would  stay 
among  them,  I  would  not  permit  them  to  have  any  force  put 
upon  them,  but  said  to  them,  "Every  one  ought  to  worship 
God  according  to  his  own  inclinations,  and  not  to  be  con- 
strained by  force;  and  that  these  men,  who  had  fled  to  us 
for  protection,  ought  not  to  be  so  treated  as  to  repent  of 
their  coming  hither."  And  when  I  had  pacified  the  multi- 
tude, I  provided  for  the  men  that  were  come  to  us  whatso- 
ever it  was  they  wanted,  according  to  their  usual  way  of 
living,  and  that  in  great  plenty  also. 

Now  King  Agrippa  sent  an  army  to  make  themselves 
masters  of  the  citadel  of  Gamala,  and  over  it  Equiculus 
Modius;  but  the  forces  that  were  sent  were  not  enow  to  en- 
compass the  citadel  quite  round,  but  lay  before  it  in  the 
open  places,  and  besieged  it.  But  when  Ebutius  the  decurion, 
who  was  intrusted  with  the  government  of  the  great  plain, 
heard  that  I  was  at  Simonias,  a  village  situated  in  the  con- 
fines of  Galilee,  and  was  distant  from  him  sixty  furlongs,  he 
took  a  hundred  horsemen  that  were  with  him  by  night,  and 
a  certain  number  of  footmen,  about  two  hundred,  and 
brought  the  inhabitants  of  the  city  Gibea  along  with  him  as 
auxiliaries,  and  marched  in  the  night,  and  came  to  the 


168  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

village  where  I  abode.  Upon  this  I  pitched  my  camp  over 
against  him,  which  had  a  great  number  of  forces  in  it; 
but  Ebutius  tried  to  draw  us  down  into  the  plain,  as  greatly 
depending  upon  his  horsemen ;  but  we  would  not  come  down; 
for  when  I  was  satisfied  of  the  advantage  that  his  horse 
would  have  if  we  came  down  into  the  plain,  while  we  were 
all  footmen,  I  resolved  to  join  battle  with  the  enemy  where 
I  was.  Now  Ebutius  and  his  party  made  a  courageous  op- 
position for  some  time :  but  when  he  saw  that  his  horse  were 
useless  to  him  in  that  place,  he  retired  back  to  the  city  Gibea, 
having  lost  three  of  his  men  in  the  fight.  So  I  followed 
him  directly  with  two  thousand  armed  men;  and  when  I 
was  at  the  city  Besara,  that  lay  in  the  confines  of  Ptolemais, 
but  twenty  furlongs  from  Gibea,  where  Ebutius  abode,  I 
placed  my  armed  men  on  the  outside  of  the  village,  and  gave 
orders  that  they  should  guard  the  passes  with  great  care, 
that  the  enemy  might  not  disturb  us  until  we  should  have 
carried  off  the  corn,  a  great  quantity  of  which  lay  there:  it 
belonged  to  Bernice  the  queen,  and  had  been  gathered  together 
out  of  the  neighboring  villages  into  Besara :  so  I  loaded  my 
camels  and  asses,  a  great  number  of  which  I  had  brought 
along  with  me,  and  sent  the  corn  into  Galilee.  When  I 
had  done  this,  I  offered  Ebutius  battle ;  but  when  he  would 
not  accept  of  the  offer,  for  he  was  terrified  at  our  readiness 
and  courage,  I  altered  my  route,  and  marched  towards 
Xeopolitanus,  because  I  had  heard  that  the  country  about 
Tiberias  was  laid  waste  by  him.  This  Neopolitanus  was 
captain  of  a  troop  of  horse,  and  had  the  custody  of  Scy- 
thopolis  intrusted  to  his  care  by  the  enemy;  and  when  I 
had  hindered  him  from  doing  any  further  mischief  to 
Tiberias,  I  set  myself  to  inake  provision  for  the  affairs  of 
Galilee. 

But  when  John,  the  son  of  Levi,  who,  as  we  before  told 
you,  abode  at  Gischala,  was  informed  how  all  things  had  suc- 
ceeded to  my  mind,  and  that  I  was  much  in  favor  with  those 
that  were  under  me,  as  also  that  the  enemy  were  greatly 
afraid  of  me,  he  was  not  pleased  with  it,  as  thinking  my 
prosperity  tended  to  his  ruin.  So  he  took  up  a  bitter  envy 
and  enmity  against  me;  and  hoping  that,  if  he  could  in- 
flame those  that  were  under  me  to  hate  me,  he  should  put 


JOSEPHUS  169* 

an  end  to  the  prosperity  I  was  in,  he  tried  to  persuade  the 
inhabitants  of  Tiberias  and  of  Sepphoris,  (and  for  those 
of  Gabara  he  supposed  they  would  be  also  of  the  same 
mind  as  the  others,)  which  were  the  greatest  cities  of  Galilee, 
to  revolt  from  their  subjection  to  me,  and  to  be  of  his 
party;  and  told  them  that  he  would  command  them  better 
than  I  did.  As  for  the  people  of  Sepphoris,  who  belonged 
to  neither  of  us,  because  they  had  chosen  to  be  in  subjection  to 
the  Romans,  they  did  not  comply  with  his  proposal;  and  for 
those  of  Tiberias,  they  did  not  indeed  so  far  comply  as  to 
make  a  revolt  from  under  me,  but  they  agreed  to  be  his 
friends,  while  the  inhabitants  of  Gabara  did  go  over  to 
John ;  and  it  was  Simon  that  persuaded  them  so  to  do,  one 
who  was  both  the  principal  man  in  the  city,  and  a  particular 
friend  and  companion  of  John.  It  is  true,  these  did  not 
openly  own  the  making  a  revolt,  because  they  were  in  great 
fear  of  the  Galileans,  and  had  frequent  experience  of  the 
good-wTill  they  bore  to  me;  yet  did  they  privately  watch  for 
a  proper  opportunity  to  lay  snares  for  me ;  and  indeed  I 
thereby  came  into  the  greatest  danger  on  the  occasion  fol- 
lowing. 

There  were  some  bold  young  men  of  the  village  of 
Dabaritta,  who  observed  that  the  \vife  of  Ptolemy,  the  king's 
procurator,  was  to  make  a  progress  over  the  great  plain 
with  a  mighty  attendance,  and  with  some  horsemen  that  fol- 
lowed as  a  guard  to  them,  and  this  out  of  a  country  that  was 
subject  to  the  king  and  queen,  into  the  jurisdiction  of  the 
Romans;  and  fell  upon  them  on  a  sudden,  and  obliged  the 
wife  of  Ptolemy  to  fly  away,  and  plundered  all  the  carriages. 
They  also  came  to  me  to  Tariehere,  with  four  mules'  loading 
of  garments,  and  other  furniture ;  and  the  weight  of  the 
silver  they  brought  was  not  small ;  and  there  were  five  hun- 
dred pieces  of  gold  also.  Now  I  had  a  mind  to  preserve 
these  spoils  for  Ptolemy,  who  was  my  countryman;  and 
it  is  prohibited  by  our  laws  even  to  spoil  our  enemies; 
so  I  said  to  those  that  brought  these  spoils,  that  they  ought 
to  be  kept,  in  order  to  rebuild  the  walls  of  Jerusalem  with 
them  when  they  came  to  be  sold ;  but  the  young  men  took  it 
very  ill  that  they  did  not  receive  a  part  of  those  spoils  for 
themselves,  as  they  expected  to  have  done ;  so  they  went 


170  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

among  the  villages  in  the  neighborhood  of  Tiberias,  and 
told  the  people  that  I  was  going  to  betray  their  country 
to  the  Romans,  and  that  I  used  deceitful  language  to  them 
when  I  said  that  what  had  been  thus  gotten  by  rapine 
should  be  kept  for  the  rebuilding  of  the  walls  of  the  city 
of  Jerusalem ;  although  I  had  resolved  to  restore  these  spoils 
again  to  their  former  owner;  and  indeed  they  were  herein 
not  mistaken  as  to  my  intentions;  and  when  I  had  gotten 
clear  of  them,  I  sent  for  two  of  the  principal  men,  Dassion, 
and  Janneus  the  son  of  Levi,  persons  that  were  among  the 
chief  friends  of  the  king,  and  commanded  them  to  take  the 
furniture  that  had  been  plundered,  and  to  send  it  to  him; 
and  I  threatened  that  I  would  order  them  to  be  put  to 
death  by  way  of  punishment,  if  they  discovered  this  my 
command  to  any  other  person. 

Now,  when  all  Galilee  was  filled  with  this  rumor,  that 
their  country  was  about  to  be  betrayed  by  me  to  the  Ro- 
mans, and  when  all  men  were  exasperated  against  me,  and 
ready  to  bring  me  to  punishment,  the  inhabitants  of 
Taricheae  did  also  themselves  suppose  that  what  the  young 
men  said  was  true,  and  persuaded  my  guards  and  armed 
men  to  leave  me  when  I  was  asleep,  and  to  come  presently 
to  the  hippodrome,  in  order  there  to  take  counsel  against  me 
their  commander;  and  when  they  had  prevailed  with  them, 
and  they  were  gotten  together,  they  found  there  a  great 
company  assembled  already,  who  all  joined  in  one  clamor, 
to  bring  the  man  who  was  so  wicked  to  them  as  to  betray 
them,  to  his  due  punishment;  and  it  was  Jesus,  the  son 
of  Sapphias,  who  principally  set  them  on.  He  was  ruler 
in  Tiberias,  a  wicked  man,  and  naturally  disposed  to  make 
disturbances  in  matters  of  consequence;  a  seditious  person 
he  was  indeed,  and  an  innovator  beyond  everybody  else.  He 
then  took  the  laws  of  Moses  into  his  hands,  and  came  into 
the  midst  of  the  people,  and  said,  "O  my  fellow-citizens! 
if  you  are  not  disposed  to  hate  Josephus  on  your  own  ac- 
count, have  regard,  however,  to  these  laws  of  your  country, 
which  your  commander-in-chief  is  going  to  betray;  hate  him 
therefore  on  both  these  accounts,  and  bring  the  man  who 
hath  acted  thus  insolently  to  his  deserved  punishment." 

When  he  had  said  this,  and  the  multitude  had  openly  ap- 


JOSEPHUS  171 

plauded  him  for  what  he  had  said,  he  took  some  of  the  armed 
men,  and  made  haste  away  to  the  house  in  which  I  lodged, 
as  if  he  would  kill  me  immediately,  while  I  was  wholly  in- 
sensible of  all  till  this  disturbance  happened;  and  by  reason 
of  the  pains  I  had  been  taking,  was  fallen  fast  asleep;  but 
Simon,  who  was  intrusted  with  the  care  of  my  body,  and  was 
the  only  person  that  stayed  with  me,  and  saw  the  violent 
incursion  the  citizens  made  upon  me,  awaked  me,  and  told 
me  of  the  danger  I  was  in,  and  desired  me  to  let  him  kill 
me,  that  I  might  die  bravely  and  like  a  general,  before  my 
enemies  came  in  and  forced  me  [to  kill  myself,]  or  killed  me 
themselves.  Thus  did  he  discourse  to  me ;  but  I  committed 
the  care  of  my  life  to  God,  and  made  haste  to  go  out  to  the 
multitude.  Accordingly,  I  put  on  a  black  garment,  and  hung 
my  sword  at  my  neck,  and  went  by  such  a  different  way  to 
the  hippodrome,  wherein  I  thought  none  of  my  adversaries 
would  meet  me;  so  I  appeared  among  them  on  the  sudden, 
and  fell  down  flat  on  the  earth,  and  bedewed  the  ground 
with  my  tears:  then  I  seemed  to  them  an  object  of  compas- 
sion ;  and  when  I  perceived  the  change  that  was  made  in  the 
multitude,  I  tried  to  divide  their  opinions  before  the  armed 
men  should  return  from  my  house ;  so  I  granted  them  that 
I  had  been  as  wicked  as  they  supposed  me  to  be;  but  still 
I  entreated  them  to  let  me  first  inform  them  for  what  use 
I  had  kept  that  money  which  arose  from  the  plunder,  and  that 
they  might  then  kill  me,  if  they  pleased :  and,  upon  the 
multitude's  ordering  me  to  speak,  the  armed  men  came  upon 
me,  and  when  they  saw  me,  they  ran  to  kill  me ;  but  when 
the  multitude  bade  them  hold  their  hands,  they  complied; 
and  expected  that  as  soon  as  I  should  own  to  them  that  I 
kept  the  money  for  the  king,  it  would  be  looked  on  as  a 
confession  of  my  treason,  and  they  should  then  be  allowed 
to  kill  me. 

AVhen,  therefore,  silence  was  made  by  the  whole  multitude, 
I  spake  thus  to  them: — "0  my  countrymen!  I  refuse  not  to 
die,  if  justice  so  require.  However,  I  am  desirous  to  tell  you 
the  truth  of  this  matter  before  I  die ;  for  as  I  know  that  this 
city  of  yours  [Tarichete]  was  a  city  of  great  hospitality,  and 
filled  with  abundance  of  such  men  as  have  left  their  own 
countries,  and  are  come  hither  to  be  partakers  of  your 


172  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

fortune,  whatever  it  be,  I  had  a  mind  to  build  walls  about 
it,  out  of  this  money,  for  which  you  are  so  angry  with  mo, 
while  yet  it  was  to  be  expended  in  building  your  own  walls." 
Upon  my  saying  this,  the  people  of  Taricheas  and  the 
strangers  cried  out,  that  "they  gave  me  thanks;  and  desired 
me  to  be  of  good  courage,"  although  the  Galileans  and  the 
people  of  Tiberias  continued  in  their  wrath  against  me,  in- 
somuch that  there  arose  a  tumult  among  them,  while  some 
threatened  to  kill  me,  and  some  bade  me  not  to  regard 
them :  but  when  I  promised  them  that  I  would  build  them 
walls  at  Tiberias,  and  at  other  cities  that  wanted  them,  they 
gave  credit  to  what  I  promised,  and  returned  every  one  to 
his  own  home.  So  I  escaped  the  forementioned  danger, 
beyond  all  my  hopes,  and  returned  to  -my  own  house,  ac- 
companied with  my  friends,  and  twenty  armed  men  also. 

However,  these  robbers  and  other  authors  of  this  tumult, 
who  were  afraid  on  their  own  account,  lest  I  should  punish 
them  for  what  they  had  done,  took  six  hundred  armed  men, 
and  came  to  the  house  where  I  abode,  in  order  to  set  it  on 
fire.  "When  this  their  insult  was  told  me,  I  thought  it  in- 
decent for  me  to  run  away,  and  I  resolved  to  expose  myself 
to  danger,  and  to  act  with  some  boldness;  so  I  gave  order 
to  shut  the  doors,  and  went  up  into  an  upper  room,  and 
desired  that  they  would  send  in  some  of  their  men  to  receive 
the  money,  [from  the  spoils;]  for  I  told  them  they  would 
then  have  no  occasion  to  be  angry  with  me;  and  when 
thejr  had  sent  in  one  of  the  boldest  of  them  all,  I  had 
him  whipped  severely;  and  I  commanded  that  one  of  his 
hands  should  be  cut  off  and  hung  about  his  neck ;  and  in  this 
case  was  he  put  out  to  those  that  sent  him.  At  which  pro- 
cedure of  mine  they  were  greatly  affrighted,  and  in  no  small 
consternation,  and  were  afraid  that  they  should  themselves 
be  served  in  like  manner  if  they  stayed  there;  for  they  sup- 
posed that  I  had  in  the  house  more  armed  men  than  they 
had  themselves:  so  they  ran  away  immediately,  while  I, 
by  the  use  of  this  stratagem,  escaped  this  their  second 
treacherous  design  against  me.  .  .  . 

But  the  hatred  that  John,  the  son  of  Levi,  bore  to  me, 
grew  now  more  violent,  while  he  could  not  bear  my  prosperity 
with  patience.  So  he  proposed  to  himself,  by  all  means  pos- 


JOSEPHUS  173 

sible,  to  make  away  with  me ;  and  built  the  walls  of  Gischala, 
which  was  the  place  of  his  nativity.  He  then  sent  his  brother 
Simon,  and  Jonathan,  the  son  of  Sisenna,  and  about  a  hun- 
dred armed  men,  to  Jerusalem,  to  Simon,  the  son  of  Gamaliel, 
in  order  to  persuade  him  to  induce  the  commonalty  of  Jeru- 
salem to  take  from  me  the  government  over  the  Galileans, 
and  to  give  their  suffrages  for  conferring  that  authority  upon 
him.  This  Simon  was  of  the  city  of  Jerusalem,  and  of  a 
very  noble  family,  of  the  sect  of  the  Pharisees,  which  are 
supposed  to  excel  others  in  the  accurate  knowledge  of  the 
laws  of  their  country.  He  was  a  man  of  great  wisdom  and 
reason,  and  capable  of  restoring  public  affairs  by  his  pru- 
dence, when  they  were  in  an  ill  posture.  He  was  also  an 
old  friend  and  companion  of  John ;  but  at  that  time  he  had 
a  difference  with  me.  When  therefore  he  had  received  such 
an  exhortation,  he  persuaded  the  high  priests,  Ananus,  and 
Jesus  the  son  of  Gamala,  and  some  others  of  the  same 
seditious  faction,  to  cut  me  down,  now  I  was  growing  so 
great,  and  not  to  overlook  me  while  I  wras  aggrandizing  my- 
self to  the  height  of  glory ;  and  he  said  that  it  would  be  for 
the  advantage  of  the  Galileans  if  I  were  deprived  of  my  gov- 
ernment there.  Ananus  also,  and  his  friends,  desired  them 
to  make  no  delay  about  the  matter,  lest  I  should  get  the 
knowledge  of  what  was  doing  too  soon,  and  should  come  and 
make  an  assault  upon  the  city  with  a  great  army.  This 
was  the  counsel  of  Simon:  but  Ananus  the  high  priest  demon- 
strated to  them  that  this  was  not  an  easy  thing  to  be  done, 
because  many  of  the  high  priests  and  of  the  rulers  of  the 
people,  bore  witness  that  I  had  acted  like  an  excellent  gen- 
eral, and  that  it  was  the  work  of  ill  men  to  accuse  one  against 
whom  they  had  nothing  to  say. 

When  Simon  heard  Ananus  say  this,  he  desired  that  the 
messengers  would  conceal  the  thing,  and  not  let  it  come 
among  many :  for  that  he  would  take  care  to  have  Josephus 
removed  out  of  Galilee  very  quickly.  So  he  called  for  John's 
brother,  [Simon,]  and  charged  him  that  they  should  send 
presents  to  Ananus  and  his  friends:  for,  as  he  said,  they 
might  probably  by  that  means  persuade  them  to  change  their 
minds.  And  indeed  Simon  did  at  length  thus  compass  what 
he  aimed  at ;  for  Ananus,  and  those  with  him,  being  cor- 


174  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

rupted  by  bribes,  agreed  to  expel  me  out  of  Galilee,  without 
making  the  rest  of  the  citizens  acquainted  with  what  they 
were  doing.  Accordingly,  they  resolved  to  send  men  of  dis- 
tinction as  to  their  families,  and  of  distinction  as  to  their 
learning  also.  Two  of  these  were  of  the  populace,  Jonathan 
and  Ananias,  by  sect  Pharisees;  while  the  third,  Jozar,  was 
of  the  stock  of  the  priests,  and  a  Pharisee  also;  and  Simon, 
the  last  of  them,  was  of  the  youngest  of  the  high  priests. 
These  had  it  given  them  in  charge,  that,  when  they  were 
come  to  the  multitude  of  the  Galileans,  they  should  ask  them 
what  was  the  reason  of  their  love  to  me?  and  if  they  said 
that  it  was  because  I  was  born  at  Jerusalem,  that  they  should 
reply,  that  they  four  were  all  born  at  the  same  place;  and 
if  they  should  say,  it  was  because  I  was  well  versed  in  their 
law,  they  should  reply,  that  neither  were  they  unacquainted 
with  the  practices  of  their  country;  but  if,  besides  these, 
they  should  say  they  loved  me  because  I  was  a  priest,  they 
should  reply,  that  two  of  these  were  priests  also. 

Now,  when  they  had  given  Jonathan  and  his  companions 
these  instructions,  they  gave  them  forty  thousand  [drachmae] 
out  of  the  public  money :  but  when  they  heard  that  there  was 
a  certain  Galilean  that  then  sojourned  at  Jerusalem,  whose 
name  was  Jesus,  who  had  about  him  a  band  of  six  hundred 
armed  men,  they  sent  for  him,  and  gave  him  three  months' 
pay,  and  gave  him  orders  to  follow  Jonathan  and  his  com- 
panions, and  be  obedient  to  them.  They  also  gave  money  to 
three  hundred  men  that  were  citizens  of  Jerusalem  to  main- 
tain them  all,  and  ordered  them  also  to  follow  the  ambas- 
sadors; and  when  they  had  complied,  and  were  gotten  ready 
for  the  march,  Jonathan  and  his  companions  went  out  with 
them,  having  along  with  them  John's  brother  and  a  hundred 
armed  men.  The  charge  that  was  given  them  by  those  that 
sent  them  was  this:  That  if  I  would  voluntarily  lay  down 
my  arms,  they  should  send  me  alive  to  the  city  of  Jerusalem ; 
but  that,  in  case  I  opposed  them,  they  should  kill  me,  and 
fear  nothing;  for  that  it  was  their  command  for  them  so 
to  do.  They  also  wrote  to  John  to  make  all  ready  for  fighting 
me,  and  gave  orders  to  the  inhabitants  of  Sepphoris,  and 
Gabara,  and  Tiberias,  to  send  auxiliaries  to  John. 

Now,  as  my  father  wrote  me  an  account  of  this,  (for  Jesus 


JOSEPHUS  175 

the  son  of  Gamala,  who  was  present  in  that  council,  a  friend 
and  companion  of  mine,  told  him  of  it,)  I  was  very  much 
troubled,  as  discovering  thereby  that  my  fellow-citizens 
proved  so  ungrateful  to  me,  as,  out  of  envy,  to  give  order 
that  I  should  be  slain;  my  father  earnestly  pressed  me  also 
in  his  letter  to  come  to  him,  for  that  he  longed  to  see  his 
son  before  he  died.  I  informed  my  friends  of  these  things, 
and  that  in  three  days'  time  I  should  leave  the  country  and 
go  home.  Upon  hearing  this,  they  were  all  very  sorry,  and 
desired  me,  with  tears  in  their  eyes,  not  to  leave  them  to  be 
destroyed ;  for  so  they  thought  they  should  be,  if  I  were  de- 
prived of  the  command  over  them:  but  as  I  did  not  grant 
their  request,  but  was  taking  care  of  my  own  safety,  the 
Galileans,  out  of  their  dread  of  the  consequence  of  my  de- 
parture, that  they  should  then  be  at  the  mercy  of  the  robbers, 
sent  messengers  over  all  Galilee  to  inform  them  of  my  resolu- 
tion to  leave  them.  Whereupon,  as  soon  as  they  heard  it,  they 
got  together  in  great  numbers,  from  all  parts,  with  their 
wives  and  children ;  and  this  they  did,  as  it  appeared  to  me, 
not  more  out  of  their  affection  to  me,  than  out  of  their  fear 
on  their  own  account ;  for,  while  I  stayed  with  them,  they  sup- 
posed that  they  should  suffer  no  harm.  So  they  all  came 
into  the  great  plain,  wherein  I  lived,  the  name  of  which  was 
Asochis. 

But  wonderful  it  was  what  a  dream  I  saw  that  very  night ; 
for  when  I  had  betaken  myself  to  my  bed,  as  grieved  and 
disturbed  at  the  news  that  had  been  written  to  me,  it  seemed 
to  me,  that  a  certain  person  stood  by  me,  and  said,  "O 
Josephus !  leave  off  to  afflict  thy  soul,  and  put  away  all  fear ; 
for  what  now  grieves  thee  will  render  thee  very  considerable, 
and  in  all  respects  most  happy;  for  thou  shalt  get  over  not 
only  these  difficulties,  but  many  others,  with  great  success. 
However,  be  not  cast  down,  but  remember  that  thou  art  to 
fight  with  the  Romans."  When  I  had  seen  this  dream,  I 
got  up  with  an  intention  of  going  down  to  the  plain.  Now, 
when  the  whole  multitude  of  the  Galileans,  among  whom 
were  the  women  and  children,  saw  me,  they  threw  themselves 
down  upon  their  faces,  and,  with  tears  in  their  eyes,  be- 
sought me  not  to  leave  them  exposed  to  their  enemies,  nor 
to  go  away  and  permit  their  country  to  be  injured  by  them; 


176  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

but,  when  I  did  not  comply  with  their  entreaties,  they  com- 
pelled me  to  take  an  oath,  that  I  would  stay  with  them :  they 
also  cast  abundance  of  reproaches  upon  the  people  of  Jeru- 
salem, that  they  would  not  let  their  country  enjoy  peace. 

"When  I  heard  this,  and  saw  what  sorrow  the  people  were 
in,  I  was  moved  with  compassion  to  them,  and  thought  it 
became  me  to  undergo  the  most  manifest  hazards  for  the 
sake  of  so  great  a  multitude;  so  I  let  them  know  I  would 
stay  with  them ;  and  when  I  had  given  order  that  five  thou- 
sand of  them  should  come  to  me  armed,  and  with  provisions 
for  their  maintenance,  I  sent  the  rest  away  to  their  own 
homos ;  and,  when  those  five  thousand  were  come,  I  took  them, 
together  with  three  thousand  of  the  soldiers  that  were  with 
me  before,  and  eighty  horsemen,  and  marched  to  the  village 
of  Chabolo,  situated  in  the  confines  of  Ptolemais,  and  there 
kept  my  forces  together,  pretending  to  get  ready  to  fight 
with  Placidus,  who  was  come  with  two  cohorts  of  footmen, 
and  one  troop  of  horsemen ;  and  was  sent  thither  by  Cestius 
Gallus  to  burn  those  villages  of  Galilee  that  were  near 
Ptolemais.  Upon  whose  casting  up  a  bank  before  the  city 
Ptolemais,  I  also  pitched  my  camp  at  about  the  distance  of 
sixty  furlongs  from  that  village ;  and  now  we  frequently 
brought  out  our  forces  as  if  we  would  fight,  but  proceeded  no 
further  than  skirmishes  at  a  distance;  for  when  Placidus  per- 
ceived that  I  was  earnest  to  come  to  a  battle,  he  was  afraid, 
and  avoided  it ;  yet  did  he  not  remove  from  the  neighborhood 
of  Ptolemais. 

About  this  time  it  was  that  Jonathan  and  his  fellow-legates 
came.  They  were  sent,  as  we  have  said  already,  by  Simon, 
and  Ananus  the  high  priest ;  and  Jonathan  contrived  how  he 
might  catch  me  by  treachery,  for  he  durst  not  make  any  at- 
tempt upon  me  openly.  So  he  wrote  me  the  following 
epistle: — "Jonathan  and  those  that  are  with  him,  and  are 
sent  by  the  people  of  Jerusalem  to  Josephus,  send  greeting. 
We  are  sent  by  the  principal  men  of  Jerusalem,  who  have 
heard  that  John  of  Gischala  hath  laid  many  snares  for  thee, 
to  rebuke  him,  and  to  exhort  him  to  be  subject  to  thee  here- 
after. We  are  also  desirous  to  consult  with  thee  about  our 
common  concerns,  and  what  is  fit  to  be  done.  We,  therefore, 
desire  thee  to  come  to  us  quickly,  and  to  bring  only  a  few 


JOSEPHUS  177 

men  with  thee;  for  this  village  will  not  contain  a  great 
number  of  soldiers."  Thus  it  was  that  they  wrote,  as  ex- 
pecting one  of  these  two  things ;  either  that  I  should  come 
without  armed  men,  and  then  they  should  have  me  wholly 
in  their  power  ;  or  if  I  came  with  a  great  number,  they 
should  judge  me  to  be  a  public  enemy.  Now  it  was  a  horse- 
man who  brought  the  letter,  a  man  at  other  times  bold,  and 
one  that  had  served  in  the  army  under  the  king.  It  was 
the  second  hour  of  the  night  that  he  came,  when  I  was  feast- 
ing with  my  friends  and  the  principal  of  the  Galileans.  This 
man,  upon  my  servant's  telling  me  that  a  certain  horseman 
of  the  Jewish  nation  was  come,  was  called  in  at  my  com- 
mand, but  did  not  so  much  as  salute  me  at  all,  but  held 
out  a  letter,  and  said,  "This  letter  is  sent  thee  by  those 
that  are  come  from  Jerusalem ;  do  thou  write  an  answer  to 
it  quickly,  for  I  am  obliged  to  return  to  them  very  soon." 
Now  my  guests  could  not  but  wonder  at  the  boldness  of  the 
soldier;  but  I  desired  him  to  sit  down  and  sup  with 
us ;  but  when  he  refused  so  to  do,  I  held  the  letter  in  my 
hands  as  I  received  it,  and  fell  a-talking  with  my  guests  about 
other  matters;  but  a  few  hours  afterwards,  I  got  up,  and 
when  I  had  dismissed  the  rest  to  go  to  their  beds,  I  bid  only 
four  of  my  intimate  friends  to  stay;  and  ordered  my  servant 
to  get  some  wine  ready.  I  also  opened  the  letter  so  that 
nobody  could  perceive  it;  and  understanding  thereby  pres- 
ently the  purport  of  the  writing,  I  sealed  it  up  again,  and 
appeared  as  if  I  had  not  yet  read  it,  but  only  held  it  in 
my  hands.  I  ordered  twenty  drachmae  should  be  given  to  the 
soldier  for  the  charges  of  his  journey;  and  when  he  took 
the  money,  and  said  that  he  thanked  me  for  it,  I  perceived 
that  he  loved  money,  and  that  he  was  to  be  caught  chiefly  by 
that  means;  and  I  said  to  him,  "If  thou  wilt  but  drink  with 
us,  thou  shalt  have  a  drachma  for  every  glass  thou  drinkest." 
So  he  gladly  embraced  this  proposal,  and  drank  a  great  deal 
of  wine,  in  order  to  get  the  more  money,  and  was  so  drunk, 
that  at  last  he  could  not  keep  the  secrets  he  was  intrusted 
with,  but  discovered  them  without  my  putting  questions  to 
him, — viz.,  That  a  treacherous  design  was  contrived  against 
me;  and  that  I  was  doomed  to  die  by  those  that  sent  him. 
When  I  heard  this,  I  wrote  back  this  answer: — "Josephus 
A.  v.  1—12 


178 

to  Jonathan,  and  those  that  are  with  him,  sendeth  greeting. 
Upon  the  information  that  you  are  come  in  health  into  Galilee, 
I  rejoice,  and  this  especially,  because  I  can  now  resign  the 
care  of  public  affairs  here  into  your  hands,  and  return  into 
my  native  country, — which  is  what  I  have  desired  to  do  a 
great  while ;  and  I  confess  I  ought  not  only  to  come  to  you 
as  far  as  Xaloth,  but  further,  and  this  without  your  com- 
mands: but  I  desire  you  to  excuse  me,  because  I  cannot  do 
it  now,  since  I  watch  the  motions  of  Placidus,  who  hath  a 
mind  to  go  up  into  Galilee ;  and  this  I  do  here  at  Chabolo.  Do 
you,  therefore,  on  the  receipt  of  this  epistle,  come  hither  to 
me.  Fare  you  well." 

"When  I  had  written  thus,  and  given  the  letter  to  be  car- 
ried by  the  soldier,  I  sent  along  with  him  thirty  of  the 
Galileans  of  the  best  characters,  and  gave  them  instructions 
to  salute  those  ambassadors,  but  to  say  nothing  else  to  them. 
I  also  gave  orders  to  as  many  of  those  armed  men,  whom 
I  esteemed  most  faithful  to  me,  to  go  along  writh  the  others, 
every  one  with  him  whom  he  was  to  guard,  lest  some  con- 
versation might  pass  between  those  whom  I  sent  and  those 
who  were  with  Jonathan.  So  those  men  went  [to  Jonathan.] 
But,  when  Jonathan  and  his  partners  had  failed  in  this 
their  first  attempt,  they  sent  me  another  letter,  the  contents 
whereof  were  as  follows: — "Jonathan  and  those  with  him, 
to  Josephus,  send  greeting.  We  require  thee  to  come  to  us 
to  the  village  Gabaroth,  on  the  third  day,  without  any  armed 
men,  that  we  may  hear  what  thou  hast  to  lay  to  the  charge 
of  John  [of  Gischala."]  When  they  had  written  this  letter, 
they  saluted  the  Galileans  whom  I  sent ;  and  came  to  Japha, 
which  was  the  largest  village  of  all  Galilee,  and  en- 
compassed with  very  strong  walls,  and  had  a  great 
number  of  inhabitants  in  it.  There  the  multitude  of  men, 
with  their  wives  and  children,  met  them,  and  exclaimed 
loudly  against  them ;  and  desired  them  to  be  gone,  and  not 
to  envy  them  the  advantage  of  an  excellent  commander. 
With  these  clamors  Jonathan  and  his  partners  were  greatly 
provoked,  although  they  durst  not  show  their  anger  openly; 
so  they  made  them  no  answer,  but  went  to  other  villages. 
But  still  the  same  clamors  met  them  from  all  the  people, 
who  said,  "Nobody  should  persuade  them  to  have  any  other 


JOSEPHUS  179 

commander  besides  Josephus."  So  Jonathan  and  his  part- 
ners went  away  from  them  without  success,  and  came  to 
Sepphoris,  the  greatest  city  of  all  Galilee.  Now  the  men  of 
that  city,  who  inclined  to  the  Romans  in  their  sentiments, 
met  them  indeed,  hut  neither  praised  nor  reproached  me ;  and 
when  they  were  gone  down  from  Sepphoris  to  Asochis,  the 
people  of  that  place  made  a  clamor  against  them,  as  those 
of  Japha  had  done;  whereupon  they  were  ahle  to  contain 
themselves  no  longer,  but  ordered  the  armed  men  that  were 
with  them  to  beat  those  that  made  the  clamor  with  their 
clubs;  and  when  they  came  to  Gabara,  John  met  them  with 
three  thousand  armed  men ;  but,  as  I  understood  by  their 
letter  that  they  had  resolved  to  fight  against  me,  I  arose  from 
Chabolo,  with  three  thousand  armed  men  also,  but  left  in 
my  camp  one  of  my  fastest  friends,  and  came  to  Jotapata, 
as  desirous  to  be  near  them,  the  distance  being  no  more 
than  forty  furlongs.  Whence  I  wrote  thus  to  them: — "If 
you  are  very  desirous  that  I  should  come  to  you,  you  know 
there  are  two  hundred  and  forty  cities  and  villages  in  Galilee : 
I  will  come  to  any  of  them  which  you  please,  excepting 
Gabara  and  Gischala, — the  one  of  which  is  John's  native 
city,  and  the  other  in  confederacy  and  friendship  with  him." 
When  Jonathan  and  his  partners  had  received  this  letter, 
they  wrote  me  no  more  answers,  but  called  a  council  of  their 
friends  together;  and  taking  John  into  their  consultation, 
they  took  counsel  together  by  what  means  they  might  attack 
me.  John's  opinion  was,  that  they  should  write  to  all  the 
cities  and  villages  that  were  in  Galilee;  for  that  there  must 
be  certainly  one  or  two  persons  in  every  one  of  them  that 
were  at  variance  with  me ;  and  that  they  should  be  invited  to 
come,  to  oppose  me  as  an  enemy.  He  would  also  have  them 
send  this  resolution  of  theirs  to  the  city  of  Jerusalem,  that  its 
citizens,  upon  the  knowledge  of  my  being  adjudged  to  be 
an  enemy  by  the  Galileans,  might  themselves  also  confirm 
that  determination.  lie  said  also,  that  when  this  was  done, 
even  those  Galileans  who  were  well  affected  to  me,  would 
desert  me  out  of  fear.  When  John  had  given  them  this  coun- 
sel, what  he  had  said  was  very  agreeable  in  the  rest  of  them. 
I  was  also  made  acquainted  with  these  affairs  about  the  third 
hour  of  the  night,  by  the  means  of  one  Saccheus  who  had 


180  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

belonged  to  them,  but  now  deserted  them  and  came  over  to 
me,  and  told  me  what  they  were  about;  so  I  perceived  that 
no  time  was  to  be  lost.  Accordingly  I  gave  command  to 
Jacob,  an  armed  man  of  my  guard,  whom  I  esteemed  faithful 
to  me,  to  take  two  hundred  men,  and  to  guard  the  passages 
that  led  from  Gabara  to  Galilee,  and  to  seize  upon  the  pas- 
sengers, and  send  them  to  me,  especially  such  as  were  caught 
with  letters  about  them :  I  also  sent  Jeremias  himself,  one  of 
my  friends,  with  six  hundred  armed  men,  to  the  borders  of 
Galilee,  in  order  to  watch  the  roads  that  led  from  this 
country  to  the  city  Jerusalem;  and  gave  him  charge  to  lay 
hold  of  such  as  traveled  with  letters  about  them,  to  keep  the 
men  in  bonds  upon  the  place,  but  to  send  me  the  letters. 

"When  I  had  laid  these  commands  upon  them,  I  gave  them 
orders,  and  bid  them  take  their  arms,  and  bring  three  days' 
provision  with  them,  and  be  with  me  the  next  day.  I  also 
parted  those  that  were  about  me  into  four  parts,  and  ordained 
those  of  them  that  were  most  faithful  to  me  to  be  a  guard 
to  my  body.  I  also  set  over  them  centurions ;  and  commanded 
them  to  take  care  that  not  a  soldier  which  they  did  not  know, 
should  mingle  himself  among  them.  Now,  on  the  fifth  day 
following,  when  I  was  at  Gabaroth,  I  found  the  entire  plain 
that  was  before  the  village  full  of  armed  men,  who  were  come 
out  of  Galilee  to  assist  me ;  many  others  of  the  multitude  also 
out  of  the  village,  ran  along  with  me:  but  as  soon  as  I  had 
taken  my  place,  and  began  to  speak  to  them,  they  all  made 
an  acclamation,  and  called  me  the  benefactor  and  savior  of 
the  country;  and  when  I  had  made  them  my  acknowledg- 
ments, and  thanked  them,  [for  their  affection  to  me,]  I  also 
advised  them  to  fight  with  nobody,  nor  to  spoil  the  country, 
but  to  pitch  their  tents  in  the  plain,  and  be  content  with  their 
sustenance  they  had  brought  with  them ;  for  I  told  them  that 
I  had  a  mind  to  compose  these  troubles  without  shedding  any 
blood.  Xow  it  came  to  pass,  that  on  the  very  same  day 
those  who  were  sent  by  John  with  letters,  fell  among  the 
guards  whom  I  had  appointed  to  watch  the  roads;  so  the  men 
were  themselves  kept  upon  the  place,  as  my  orders  were ;  but 
I  got  the  letters,  which  were  full  of  reproaches  and  lies;  and 
I  intended  to  fall  upon  these  men,  without  saying  a  word 
of  these  matters  to  anybody. 


JOSEPHUS  181 

Now,  as  soon  as  Jonathan  and  his  companions  heard  of 
my  coming,  they  took  all  their  own  friends,  and  John  with 
them,  and  retired  to  the  house  of  Jesus,  which  indeed  was  a 
large  castle,  and  no  way  unlike  a  citadel;  so  they  privately 
led  a  band  of  armed  men  therein,  and  shut  all  the  other 
doors  but  one,  which  they  kept  open,  and  they  expected  that  I 
should  come  out  of  the  road  to  them,  to  salute  them;  and 
indeed  they  had  given  orders  to  the  armed  men,  that  when 
I  came  they  should  let  nobody  besides  me  come  in,  but  should 
exclude  others ;  as  supposing  that,  by  this  means,  they  should 
easily  get  me  under  their  power:  but  they  were  deceived  in 
their  expectation,  for  I  perceived  what  snares  they  had  laid 
for  me.  Now,  as  soon  as  I  was  got  off  my  journey,  I  took 
up  my  lodgings  over  against  them,  and  pretended  to  be 
asleep ;  so  Jonathan  and  his  party,  thinking  that  I  was  really 
asleep  and  at  rest,  made  haste  to  go  down  into  the  plain 
to  persuade  the  people  that  I  was  an  ill  governor:  but  the 
matter  proved  otherwise;  for,  upon  their  appearance,  there 
was  a  cry  made  by  the  Galileans  immediately,  declaring  their 
good  opinion  of  me  as  their  governor;  and  they  made  a 
clamor  against  Jonathan  and  his  partners  for  coming  to 
them  when  they  had  suffered  no  harm,  and  as  though  they 
would  overturn  their  happy  settlement ;  and  desired  them  by 
all  means  to  go  back  again,  for  that  they  would  never  be 
persuaded  to  have  any  other  to  rule  over  them  but  myself. 
When  I  heard  of  this,  I  did  not  fear  to  go  down  into  the 
midst  of  them;  I  went  therefore  myself  down  presently,  to 
hear  what  Jonathan  and  his  companions  said.  As  soon  as  I 
appeared,  there  was  immediately  an  acclamation  made  to  me 
by  the  whole  multitude,  and  a  cry  in  my  commendation  by 
them,  who  confessed  their  thanks  was  owing  to  me  for  my 
good  government  of  them. 

When  Jonathan  and  his  companions  heard  this,  they  were 
in  fear  of  their  own  lives,  and  in  danger  lest  they  should 
be  assaulted  by  the  Galileans  on  my  account;  so  they  con- 
trived how  they  might  run  away;  but  as  they  were  not  able 
to  get  off,  for  I  desired  them  to  stay,  they  looked  down  with 
concern  at  my  words  to  them.  I  ordered,  therefore,  the 
multitude  to  restrain  entirely  their  acclamations,  and  placed 
the  most  faithful  of  my  armed  men  upon  the  avenues,  to  be 


182  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

a  guard  to  us,  lest  John  should  unexpectedly  fall  upon  us; 
and  I  encouraged  the  Galileans  to  take  their  weapons,  lest 
they  should  be  disturbed  at  their  enemies,  if  any  sudden 
assault  should  be  made  upon  them;  and  then,  in  the  first 
place,  I  put  Jonathan  and  his  partners  in  mind  of  their 
[former]  letter,  and  after  what  manner  they  had  written 
to  me,  and  declared  they  were  sent  by  the  common  consent 
of  the  people  of  Jerusalem  to  make  up  the  differences  I  had 
with  John,  and  how  they  had  desired  me  to  come  to  them; 
and  as  I  spake  thus,  I  publicly  showed  that  letter  they  had 
written,  till  they  could  not  at  all  deny  what  they  had  done, 
the  letter  itself  convicting  them.  I  then  said,  "O  Jonathan! 
and  you  that  are  sent  with  him  as  his  colleagues,  if  I  were 
to  be  judged  as  to  my  behavior,  compared  with  that  of 
John's,  and  had  brought  no  more  than  two  or  three  witnesses, 
good  men  and  true,  it  is  plain  you  had  been  forced,  upon 
the  examination  of  their  characters  beforehand,  to  discharge 
the  accusations:  that,  wherefore,  you  may  be  informed  that 
I  have  acted  well  in  the  affairs  of  Galilee,  I  think  three  wit- 
nesses too  few  to  be  brought  by  a  man  that  hath  done  as 
he  ought  to  do;  so  I  gave  you  all  these  for  witnesses.  In- 
quire of  them  how  I  have  lived,  and  whether  I  have  not  be- 
haved myself  with  all  decency,  and  after  a  virtuous  manner 
among  them.  And  I  further  conjure  you,  0  Galileans!  to 
hide  no  part  of  the  truth,  but  to  speak  before  these  men  as 
before  judges,  whether  I  have  in  anything  acted  otherwise 
than  well." 

While  I  was  thus  speaking,  the  united  voices  of  all  the  peo- 
ple joined  together,  and  called  me  their  benefactor  and  savior, 
and  attested  to  my  former  behavior,  and  exhorted  me  to 
continue  so  to  do  hereafter;  and  they  all  said,  upon  their 
oaths,  that  their  wives  had  been  preserved  free  from  injuries, 
and  that  no  one  had  ever  been  aggrieved  by  me.  After 
this,  I  read  to  the  Galileans  two  of  those  epistles  which  had 
been  sent  by  Jonathan  and  his  colleagues,  and  which  those 
whom  I  had  appointed  to  guard  the  road  had  taken,  and 
sent  to  me.  These  were  full  of  reproaches  and  of  lies,  as 
if  I  had  acted  more  like  a  tyrant  than  a  governor  against 
them ;  with  many  other  things  besides  therein  contained, 
which  were  no  better  indeed  than  impudent  falsities.  I  also 


JOSEPHUS  183 

informed  the  multitude  how  I  came  by  these  letters,  and 
that  those  who  carried  them  delivered  them  up  voluntarily; 
for  I  was  not  willing  that  my  enemies  should  know  anything 
of  the  guards  I  had  set,  lest  they  should  be  afraid,  and  leave 
off  writing  hereafter. 

When  the  multitude  heard  these  things,  they  were  greatly 
provoked  at  Jonathan  and  his  colleagues  that  were  with  him, 
and  were  going  to  attack  them,  and  kill  them ;  and  this  they 
had  certainly  done,  unless  I  had  restrained  the  anger  of  the 
Galileans,  and  said,  that  "I  forgave  Jonathan  and  his  col- 
leagues what  was  past,  if  they  would  repent,  and  go  to  their 
own  country,  and  tell  those  who  sent  them  the  truth  as  to 
my  conduct."  When  I  had  said  this,  I  let  them  go,  although 
I  knew  they  would  do  nothing  of  what  they  had  promised. 
But  the  multitude  were  very  much  enraged  against  them,  and 
entreated  me  to  give  them  leave  to  punish  them  for  their 
insolence;  yet  did  I  try  all  methods  to  persuade  them  to 
spare  the  men;  for  I  knew  that  every  instance  of  sedition 
was  pernicious  to  the  public  welfare.  But  the  multitude 
was  too  angry  with  them  to  be  dissuaded;  and  all  of  them 
went  immediately  to  the  house  in  which  Jonathan  and  his 
colleagues  abode.  However,  when  I  perceived  that  their  rage 
could  not  be  restrained,  I  got  on  horseback,  and  ordered 
the  multitude  to  follow  me  to  the  village  Sogane,  which  was 
twenty  furlongs  off  Gabara;  and  by  using  this  stratagem,  I 
so  managed  myself  as  not  to  appear  to  begin  a  civil  war 
amongst  them. 

But  when  I  was  come  near  Sogane,  I  caused  the  multitude 
to  make  a  halt,  and  exhorted  them  not  to  be  so  easily  pro- 
voked to  anger,  and  to  the  inflicting  such  punishments  as 
could  not  be  afterwards  recalled :  I  also  gave  order,  that  a 
hundred  men,  who  were  already  in  years,  and  were  principal 
men  among  them,  should  get  themselves  ready  to  go  to  the 
city  of  Jerusalem,  and  should  make  a  complaint  before  the 
people,  of  such  as  raised  seditions  in  the  country.  And  I  said 
to  them,  that  ''in  case  they  be  moved  with  what  you  say, 
you  shall  desire  the  community  to  write  to  me,  and  to  enjoin 
me  to  continue  in  Galilee,  and  to  order  Jonathan  and  his 
colleagues  to  depart  out  of  it."  When  I  had  suggested  these 
instructions  to  them,  and  while  they  were  getting  themselves 


184  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

ready  as  fast  as  they  could,  I  sent  them  on  this  errand  the 
third  day  after  they  had  been  assembled:  I  also  sent  five 
hundred  armed  men  with  them  [as  a  guard.]  I  then  wrote 
to  my  friends  in  Samaria,  to  take  care  that  they  might  safely 
pass  through  the  country ;  for  Samaria  was  already  under  the 
Romans,  and  it  was  absolutely  necessary  for  those  that  go 
quickly  [to  Jerusalem]  to  pass  through  that  country;  for  in 
that  road  you  may,  in  three  days'  time,  go  from  Galilee  to 
Jerusalem.  I  also  went  myself,  and  conducted  the  old  men 
as  far  as  the  bounds  of  Galilee,  and  set  guards  in  the 
roads,  that  it  might  not  be  easily  known  by  any  one  that  these 
men  were  gone.  And  when  I  had  thus  done,  I  went  and 
abode  at  Japha.  .  .  . 

But  as  I  was  gone  out  a  little  way,  I  was  just  upon  meeting 
John,  who  was  marching  with  his  armed  men.  So  I  was 
afraid  of  him,  and  turned  aside,  and  escaped  by  a  narrow 
passage  to  the  lake,  and  seized  on  a  ship,  and  embarked  in 
it,  and  sailed  over  to  Taricheae.  So,  beyond  my  expectation, 
I  escaped  this  danger.  Whereupon  I  presently  sent  for  the 
chief  of  the  Galileans,  and  told  them  after  what  manner, 
against  all  faith  given,  I  had  been  very  near  to  destruction 
from  Jonathan  and  his  colleagues,  and  the  people  of  Tiberias. 
Upon  which  the  multitude  of  the  Galileans  were  very  angry, 
and  encouraged  me  to  delay  no  longer  to  make  war  upon 
them,  but  to  permit  them  to  go  against  John,  and  utterly 
to  destroy  him,  as  well  as  Jonathan  and  his  colleagues.  How- 
ever, I  restrained  them,  though  they  were  in  such  a  rage, 
and  desired  them  to  tarry  a  while,  till  we  should  be  informed 
what  orders  those  ambassadors  that  were  sent  by  them  to 
the  city  of  Jerusalem  should  bring  thence ;  for  I  told  them 
that  it  was  best  to  act  according  to  their  determination ; 
whereupon  they  were  prevailed  on.  At  which  time  also, 
John,  when  the  snares  he  had  laid  did  not  take  effect,  re- 
turned back  to  Gischala. 

Now,  in  a  few  days,  those  ambassadors  whom  we  had  sent 
came  back  again,  and  informed  us  that  the  people  were 
greatly  provoked  at  Ananus,  and  Simon  the  son  of  Gamaliel, 
and  their  friends;  that,  without  any  public  determination, 
they  had  sent  to  Galilee,  and  had  done  their  endeavors  that 
I  might  be  turned  out  of  the  provornment.  The  ambassadors 


JOSEPHUS  185 

said  further,  that  the  people  were  ready  to  burn  their  houses. 
They  also  brought  letters,  whereby  the  chief  men  of  Jeru- 
salem, at  the  earnest  petition  of  the  people,  confirmed  me 
in  the  government  of  Galilee,  and  enjoined  Jonathan  and  his 
colleagues  to  return  home  quickly.  When  I  had  gotten  these 
letters,  I  came  to  the  village  Arbela,  where  I  procured  an 
assembly  of  the  Galileans  to  meet,  and  bid  the  ambassadors 
declare  to  them  the  anger  of  the  people  of  Jerusalem  at 
what  had  been  done  by  Jonathan  and  his  colleagues,  and 
how  much  they  hated  their  wicked  doings,  and  how  they 
had  confirmed  me  in  the  government  of  their  country,  as  also 
what  related  to  the  order  they  had  in  writing  for  Jonathan 
and  his  colleagues  to  return  home.  So  I  immediately  sent 
them  the  letter,  and  bid  him  that  carried  it  to  inquire,  as 
well  as  he  could,  how  they  intended  to  act  [on  this  occasion.] 

Now  when  they  had  received  that  letter,  and  were  thereby 
greatly  disturbed,  they  sent  for  John,  and  for  the  senators 
of  Tiberias,  and  for  the  principal  men  of  the  Gabarens,  and 
proposed  to  hold  a  council,  and  desired  them  to  consider  what 
was  to  be  done  by  them.  However,  the  governors  of  Tiberias 
were  greatly  disposed  to  keep  the  government  to  themselves ; 
for  they  said  it  was  not  fit  to  desert  their  city,  now  it  was 
committed  to  their  trust,  and  that  otherwise  I  should  not  de- 
lay to  fall  upon  them;  for  they  pretended  falsely  that  so 
I  had  threatened  to  do.  Now  John  was  not  only  of  their 
opinion,  but  advised  them,  that  two  of  them  should  go  to 
accuse  me  before  the  multitude  [at  Jerusalem,]  that  I  do  not 
manage  the  affairs  of  Galilee  as  I  ought  to  do;  and  that 
they  would  easily  persuade  the  people,  because  of  their 
dignity,  and  because  the  whole  multitude  are  very  mutable. 
When,  therefore,  it  appeared  that  John  had  suggested  the 
wisest  advice  to  them,  they  resolved  that  two  of  them, 
Jonathan  and  Ananias,  should  go  to  the  people  of  Jerusalem, 
and  the  other  two  [Simon  and  Joazar]  should  be  left  behind 
to  tarry  at  Tiberias.  They  also  took  along  with  them  a  hun- 
dred soldiers  for  their  guard. 

However,  the  governors  of  Tiberias  took  care  to  have  their 
city  secured  with  walls,  and  commanded  their  inhabitants  to 
take  their  arms.  They  also  sent  for  a  great  many  soldiers 
from  John,  to  assist  them  against  me,  if  there  should  be  occa- 


186  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

sion  for  them.  Now  John  was  at  Gischala.  Jonathan,  there- 
fore, and  those  that  were  with  him,  when  they  were  departed 
from  Tiberias,  and  as  soon  as  they  were  come  to  Dabaritta, 
a  village  that  lay  in  the  utmost  parts  of  Galilee,  in  the  great 
plain,  they,  about  midnight,  fell  among  the  guards  I  had  set, 
who  both  commanded  them  to  lay  aside  their  weapons,  and 
kept  them  in  bonds  upon  the  place,  as  I  had  charged  them 
to  do.  This  news  was  written  to  me  by  Levi,  who  had  the 
command  of  that  guard  committed  to  him  by  me.  Hereupon 
I  said  nothing  of  it  for  two  days;  and,  pretending  to  know 
nothing  about  it,  I  sent  a  message  to  the  people  of  Tiberias, 
and  advised  them  to  lay  their  arms  aside,  and  to  dismiss 
their  men,  that  they  might  go  home;  but  supposing  that 
Jonathan,  and  those  that  were  with  him,  were  already  ar- 
rived at  Jerusalem,  they  made  reproachful  answers  to  me; 
yet  was  I  not  terrified  thereby,  but  contrived  another 
stratagem  against  them,  for  I  did  not  think  it  agreeable 
with  piety  to  kindle  the  fire  of  war  against  the  citizens.  As 
I  was  desirous  to  draw  those  men  away  from  Tiberias,  I 
chose  out  ten  thousand  of  the  best  of  my  armed  men,  and 
divided  them  into  three  bodies,  and  ordered  them  to  go 
privately,  and  lie  still  as  an  ambush,  in  the  villages.  I  also 
led  a  thousand  into  another  village,  which  lay  indeed  in 
the  mountains,  as  did  the  others,  but  only  four  furlongs 
distant  from  Tiberias;  and  gave  orders  that,  when  they  saw 
my  signal,  they  should  come  down  immediately,  while  I  my- 
self lay  with  my  soldiers  in  the  sight  of  everybody.  Here- 
upon the  people  of  Tiberias,  at  the  sight  of  me,  came  running 
out  of  the  city  perpetually,  and  abused  me  greatly.  Nay, 
their  madness  was  come  to  that  height,  that  they  made  a 
decent  bier  for  me,  and,  standing  about  it,  they  mourned 
over  me  in  the  way  of  jest  and  sport ;  and  I  could  not  but 
be  myself  in  a  pleasant  humor  upon  the  sight  of  this  mad- 
ness of  theirs. 

And  now,  being  desirous  to  catch  Simon  by  a  wile,  and 
Joazar  with  him,  I  sent  a  message  to  them,  and  desired 
them  to  come  a  little  way  out  of  the  city,  and  many  of  their 
friends  to  guard  them;  for  I  said  I  would  come  down  to 
them,  and  make  a  league  with  them,  and  divide  the  govern- 
ment of  Galilee  with  them.  Accordingly  Simon  was  deluded, 


JOSEPHUS  187 

on  account  of  his  imprudence,  and  out  of  the  hopes  of  gain, 
and  did  not  delay  to  come;  but  Joazar,  suspecting  snares 
were  laid  for  him,  stayed  behind.  So  when  Simon  was  come 
out,  and  his  friends  with  him  for  his  guard,  I  met  him,  and 
saluted  him  with  great  civility,  and  professed  that  I  was 
obliged  to  him  for  his  coming  up  to  me;  but  a  little  while 
afterward  I  walked  along  with  him,  as  though  I  would  say 
something  to  him  by  himself;  but  when  I  had  drawn  him  a 
good  way  from  his  friends,  I  took  him  about  the  middle,  and 
gave  him  to  my  friends  that  were  with  me,  to  carry  him 
into  a  village ;  and  commanding  my  armed  men  to  come 
down,  I  with  them  made  an  assault  upon  Tiberias.  Now, 
as  the  fight  grew  hot  on  both  sides,  and  the  soldiers  belonging 
to  Tiberias  were  in  a  fair  way  to  conquer  me,  (for  my  armed 
men  were  already  fled  away,)  I  saw  the  posture  of  my 
affairs;  and  encouraging  those  that  were  with  me,  I  pursued 
those  of  Tiberias,  even  when  they  were  already  conquerors, 
into  the  city.  I  also  sent  another  band  of  soldiers  into  the 
city  by  the  lake,  and  gave  them  orders  to  set  on  fire  the  first 
house  they  could  seize  upon.  When  this  was  done,  the  people 
of  Tiberias  thought  that  their  city  was  taken  by  force,  and  so 
threw  down  their  arms  for  fear;  and  implored,  they,  their 
wives,  and  children,  that  I  would  spare  their  city.  So  I 
was  over-persuaded  by  their  entreaties,  and  restrained  the 
soldiers  from  the  vehemency  with  which  they  pursued  them ; 
while  I  myself,  upon  the  coming  on  of  the  evening,  returned 
back  with  my  soldiers,  and  went  to  refresh  myself.  I  also 
invited  Simon  to  sup  with  me,  and  comforted  him  on  occa- 
sion of  what  had  happened  •  and  I  promised  that  I  would 
send  him  safe  and  secure  to  Jerusalem,  and  withal  would 
give  him  provisions  for  his  journey  thither. 

But  on  the  next  day,  I  brought  ten  thousand  armed  men 
with  me,  and  came  to  Tiberias.  I  then  sent  for  the  principal 
men  of  the  multitude  into  the  public  place,  and  enjoined  them 
to  tell  me  who  were  the  authors  of  the  revolt ;  and  when  they 
told  me  who  the  men  were,  I  sent  them  bound  to  the  city 
Jotapata ;  but,  as  to  Jonathan  and  Ananias,  I  freed  them 
from  their  bonds,  and  gave  them  provisions  for  their  journey, 
together  with  Simon  and  Joazar,  and  five  hundred  armed 
men  who  should  guard  them ;  and  so  I  sent  them  to  Jerusalem. 


188  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

The  people  of  Tiberias  also  came  to  me  again,  and  desired 
that  I  would  forgive  them  for  what  they  had  done ;  and  they 
said  they  would  amend  what  they  had  done  amiss  with  re- 
gard to  me,  by  their  fidelity  for  the  time  to  come;  and  they 
besought  me  to  preserve  what  spoils  remained  upon  the 
plunder  of  the  city,  for  those  that  had  lost  them.  Accord- 
ingly, I  enjoined  those  that  had  got  them  to  bring  them  all 
before  us;  and  when  they  did  not  comply  for  a  great  while, 
and  I  saw  one  of  the  soldiers  that  were  about  me  with  a  gar- 
ment on  that  was  more  splendid  than  ordinary,  I  asked  him 
whence  he  had  it;  and  when  he  replied  that  he  had  it  out 
of  the  plunder  of  the  city,  I  had  him  punished  with  stripes ; 
and  I  threatened  all  the  rest  to  inflict  a  severer  punishment 
upon  them,  unless  they  produced  before  us  whatsoever  they 
had  plundered ;  and  when  a  great  many  spoils  were  brought 
together,  I  restored  to  every  one  of  Tiberias  what  they  claimed 
to  be  their  own. 

And  now  I  am  come  to  this  part  of  my  narration,  I  have 
a  mind  to  say  a  few  things  to  Justus,  who  hath  himself  written 
a  history  concerning  these  affairs ;  *  as  also  to  others  who 
profess  to  write  history,  but  have  little  regard  to  truth,  and 
are  not  afraid,  either  out  of  ill-will  or  good-will  to  some  per- 
sons, to  relate  falsehoods.  These  men  do  like  those  who  com- 
pose forged  deeds  and  conveyances ;  and  because  they  are  not 
brought  to  the  like  punishment  with  them,  they  have  no  re- 
gard to  truth.  When,  therefore,  Justus  undertook  to  write 
about  these  facts,  and  about  the  Jewish  war,  that  he  might 
appear  to  have  been  an  industrious  man,  he  falsified  in  what 
he  related  about  me,  and  could  not  speak  truth  even  about 
his  own  country;  whence  it  is  that,  being  belied  by  him,  I 
am  under  a  necessity  to  make  my  defense ;  and  so  I  shall  say 
what  I  have  concealed  till  now ;  and  let  no  one  wonder  that 
I  have  not  told  the  world  these  things  a  great  while  ago; 
for  although  it  be  necessary  for  a  historian  to  write  the  truth, 
yet  is  such  a  one  not  bound  severely  to  animadvert  on  the 
wickedness  of  certain  men, — not  out  of  any  favor  to  them, 
but  out  of  an  author's  own  moderation.  How  then  comes  it 
to  pass,  O  Justus!  thou  most  sagacious  of  writers,  (that  I 
may  address  myself  to  him  as  if  he  were  here  present,)  for 

'This  history  of  Justus  is  lost. 


JOSEPHUS  189 

so  thou  boastest  of  thyself,  that  I  and  the  Galileans  have 
been  the  authors  of  that  sedition  which  thy  country  engaged 
in,  both  against  the  Romans  and  against  the  king  [Agrippa, 
junior] — for  before  ever  I  was  appointed  governor  of  Galilee 
by  the  community  of  Jerusalem,  both  thou  and  all  the  people 
of  Tiberias  had  not  only  taken  up  arms,  but  had  made  war 
with  Decapolis  of  Syria.  Accordingly,  thou  hadst  ordered 
their  villages  to  be  burnt,  and  a  domestic  servant  of  thine  fell 
in  the  battle.  Nor  is  it  I  only  who  say  this;  but  so  it  is 
written  in  the  Commentaries  of  Vespasian,  the  emperor;  as 
also  how  the  inhabitants  of  Decapolis  came  clamoring  to 
Vespasian  at  Ptolemais,  and  desired  that  thou,  who  wast  the 
author,  [of  that  war,]  mightst  be  brought  to  punishment ;  and 
thou  hadst  certainly  been  punished  at  the  command  of 
Vespasian,  had  not  King  Agrippa,  who  had  power  given  him 
to  have  thee  put  to  death,  at  the  earnest  entreaty  of  his 
sister  Bernice,  changed  the  punishment  from  death  into  a  long 
imprisonment.  Thy  political  administration  of  affairs  after- 
ward doth  also  clearly  discover  both  thy  other  behavior  in 
life,  and  that  thou  wast  the  occasion  of  thy  country's  revolt 
from  the  Romans ;  plain  signs  of  which  I  shall  produce 
presently. 

Thou  sayest,  indeed,  that  it  is  I  who  am  a  wicked  man.  But 
then,  for  what  reason  was  it  that  King  Agrippa,  who  pro- 
cured thee  thy  life  when  thou  wast  condemned  to  die  by 
Vespasian,  and  who  bestowed  so  much  riches  upon  thee,  did 
twice  afterward  put  thee  in  bonds,  and  as  often  obliged  thee 
to  run  away  from  thy  country,  and,  when  he  had  once 
ordered  thee  to  be  put  to  death,  he  granted  thee  a  pardon 
at  the  earnest  desire  of  Bernice?  And  when  (after  so  many 
of  thy  wicked  pranks)  he  had  made  thee  his  secretary,  he 
caught  thee  falsifying  his  epistles,  and  drove  thee  away  from 
his  sight.  But  I  shall  not  inquire  accurately  into  these 
matters  of  scandal  against  thee.  Yet  cannot  I  but  wonder 
at  thy  impudence,  when  thou  hast  the  assurance  to  say,  that 
thou  hast  better  related  these  affairs  [of  the  war]  than  have 
all  the  others  that  have  written  about  them,  whilst  thou 
didst  not  know  what  was  done  in  Galilee ;  for  thou  wast  then 
at  Berytus  with  the  king;  nor  didst  thou  know  how  much 
the  Romans  suffered  at  the  siege  of  Jotapata,  or  what 


190  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

miseries  they  brought  upon  us;  nor  couldst  thou  learn  by 
inquiry  what  I  did  during  that  siege  myself;  for  all  those 
that  might  afford  such  information  were  quite-  destroyed  in 
that  siege.  But  perhaps  thou  wilt  say,  thou  hast  written  of 
what  was  done  against  the  people  of  Jerusalem  exactly.  But 
how  should  that  be?  for  neither  wast  thou  concerned  in  that 
war,  nor  hast  thou  read  the  commentaries  of  Caesar ;  of  which 
we  have  evident  proof,  because  thou  hast  contradicted  those 
commentaries  of  Ctesar  in  thy  history.  But  if  thou  art  so 
hardy  as  to  affirm  that  thou  hast  written  that  history  better 
than  all  the  rest,  why  didst  thou  not  publish  thy  history 
while  the  Emperors  Vespasian  and  Titus,  the  generals  in 
that  war,  as  well  as  King  Agrippa  and  his  family,  who  were 
men  very  well  skilled  in  the  learning  of  the  Greeks,  were 
all  alive?  for  thou  hast  had  it  written  these  twenty  years, 
and  then  mightst  thou  have  had  the  testimony  of  thy  ac- 
curacy. But  now,  when  these  men  are  no  longer  with  us, 
and  thou  thinkest  thou  canst  not  be  contradicted,  thou  ven- 
turest  to  publish  it.  But  then  I  was  not  in  like  manner 
afraid  of  my  own  writing,  but  I  offered  my  books  to  the 
emperors  themselves,  when  the  facts  were  almost  under  men's 
eyes;  for  I  was  conscious  to  myself  that  I  had  observed  the 
truth  of  the  facts;  and  as  I  expected  to  have  their  attesta- 
tion to  them,  so  I  was  not  deceived  in  such  expectation. 
Moreover,  I  immediately  presented  my  history  to  many  other 
persons,  some  of  whom  were  concerned  in  the  war,  as  was 
King  Agrippa  and  some  of  his  kindred.  Now  the  Emperor 
Titus  was  so  desirous  that  the  knowledge  of  these  affairs 
should  be  taken  from  these  books  alone,  that  he  subscribed 
his  own  hand  to  them,  and  ordered  that  they  should  be  pub- 
lished ;  and  for  King  Agrippa,  he  wrote  me  sixty-two  letters, 
and  attested  to  the  truth  of  what  I  had  therein  delivered ; 
two  of  which  letters  I  have  here  subjoined,  and  thou  mayst 
thereby  know  their  contents: — "King  Agrippa  to  Josephus; 
his  dear  friend,  sendeth  greeting.  I  have  read  over  thy  book 
with  great  pleasure,  and  it  appears  to  me  that  thou  hast 
done  it  much  more  accurately,  and  with  greater  care,  than 
have  the  other  writers.  Send  me  the  rest  of  these  books. 
Farewell,  my  dear  friend."  "King  Agrippa  to  Josephus, 
his  dear  friend,  sendeth  greeting.  It  seems  by  what  thou 


JOSEPHUS  191 

hast  written,  that  thou  standest  in  need  of  no  instruction, 
in  order  to  our  information  from  the  beginning.  However, 
when  thou  comest  to  me,  I  will  inform  thee  of  a  great  many 
things  which  thou  dost  not  know."  So  when  this  history 
was  perfected,  Agrippa,  neither  by  way  of  flattery,  which  was 
not  agreeable  to  him,  nor  by  way  of  irony,  as  thou  wilt  say, 
for  he  was  entirely  a  stranger  to  such  an  evil  disposition  of 
mind,  but  he  wrote  this  by  way  of  attestation  to  what  was 
true,  as  all  that  read  histories  may  do.  And  so  much  shall 
be  said  concerning  Justus,  which  I  am  obliged  to  add  by 
way  of  digression. 

Now,  when  I  had  settled  the  affairs  of  Tiberias,  and  had 
assembled  my  friends  as  a  sanhedrim,  I  consulted  what  I 
should  do  as  to  John:  whereupon  it  appeared  to  be  the 
opinion  of  all  the  Galileans  that  I  should  arm  them  all,  and 
march  against  John,  and  punish  him  as  the  author  of  all  the 
disorders  that  had  happened.  Yet  was  not  I  pleased  with 
their  determination;  as  purposing  to  compose  these  troubles 
without  bloodshed.  Upon  this  I  exhorted  them  to  use  the  ut- 
most care  to  learn  the  names  of  all  that  were  under  John; 
which,  when  they  had  done,  and  I  thereby  was  apprised  who 
the  men  were,  I  published  an  edict,  wherein  I  offered  security 
and  my  right  hand  to  such  of  John's  party  as  had  a  mind 
to  repent ;  and  I  allowed  twenty  days '  time  to  such  as  would 
take  this  most  advantageous  course  for  themselves.  I  also 
threatened  that,  unless  they  threw  down  their  arms,  I  would 
burn  their  houses,  and  expose  their  goods  to  public  sale. 
When  the  men  heard  of  this,  they  were  in  no  small  disorder, 
and  deserted  John ;  and  to  the  number  of  four  thousand 
threw  down  their  arms,  and  came  to  me.  So  that  no  others 
stayed  with  John  but  his  own  citizens,  and  about  fifteen  hun- 
dred strangers  that  came  from  the  metropolis  of  Tyre;  and 
when  John  saw  that  he  had  been  outwitted  by  my  stratagem, 
he  continued  afterward  in  his  own  country,  and  was  in  great 
fear  of  me.  . 

But  about  this  time  it  was  that  the  people  of  Sepphoria 
grew  insolent,  and  took  up  arms,  out  of  a  confidence  they  had 
in  the  strength  of  their  walls,  and  because  they  saw  me  en- 
gaged in  other  affairs  also.  So  they  sent  to  Cestius  Gallus, 
who  was  president  of  Syria,  and  desired  that  he  would  either 


192  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

come  quickly  to  them,  and  take  their  city  under  his  protec- 
tion, or  send  them  a  garrison.  Accordingly  Gallus  promised 
them  to  come,  but  did  not  send  word  when  he  would  come: 
and  when  I  had  learned  so  much,  I  took  the  soldiers  that  were 
with  me,  and  made  an  assault  upon  the  people  of  Sepphoris, 
and  took  the  city  by  force.  The  Galileans  took  this  oppor- 
tunity, as  thinking  they  had  now  a  proper  time  for  showing 
their  hatred  to  them,  since  they  bore  ill-will  to  that  city  also. 
They  then  exerted  themselves  as  if  they  would  destroy  them 
all  utterly,  with  those  that  sojourned  there  also.  So  they  ran 
upon  them,  and  set  their  houses  on  fire,  as  finding  them  with- 
out inhabitants ;  for  the  men,  out  of  fear,  ran  together  to  the 
citadel.  So  the  Galileans  carried  off  everything,  and  omitted 
no  kind  of  desolation  which  they  could  bring  upon  their 
countrymen.  When  I  saw  this,  I  was  exceedingly  troubled 
at  it,  and  commanded  them  to  leave  off,  and  put  them  in 
mind  that  it  was  not  agreeable  to  piety  to  do  such  things  to 
their  countrymen:  but  since  they  neither  would  hearken  to 
what  I  exhorted,  nor  to  what  I  commanded  them  to  do,  (for 
the  hatred  they  bore  to  the  people  there  was  too  hard  for  my 
exhortations  to  them,)  I  bade  those  my  friends,  who  were 
most  faithful  to  me,  and  were  about  me,  to  give  out  reports, 
as  if  the  Romans  were  falling  upon  the  other  part  of  the  city 
with  a  great  army;  and  this  I  did,  that,  by  such  a  report 
being  spread  abroad,  I  might  restrain  the  violence  of  the 
Galileans,  and  preserve  the  city  of  Sepphoris.  And  at  length 
this  stratagem  had  its  effect;  for,  upon  hearing  this  report, 
they  were  in  fear  for  themselves,  and  so  they  left  off  plunder- 
ing, and  ran  away ;  and  this  more  especially,  because  they  saw 
me,  their  general,  do  the  same  also;  for,  that  I  might  cause 
this  report  to  be  believed,  I  pretended  to  be  in  fear  as  well 
as  they.  Thus  were  the  inhabitants  of  Sepphoris  unexpect- 
edly preserved  by  this  contrivance  of  mine. 

Nay,  indeed,  Tiberias  had  like  to  have  been  plundered  by 
the  Galileans  also  upon  the  following  occasion: — The  chief 
men  of  the  senate  wrote  to  the  king,  and  desired  that  he 
would  come  to  them,  and  take  possession  of  their  city.  The 
king  promised  to  come,  and  wrote  a  letter  in  answer  to  theirs, 
and  gave  it  to  one  of  his  bed-chamber,  whose  name  was 
Crispus,  and  who  was  by  birth  a  Jew,  to  carry  it  to  Tiberias. 


JOSEPHUS  193 

When  the  Galileans  knew  that  this  man  carried  such  a 
letter,  they  caught  him  and  brought  him  to  me;  but  as  soon 
as  the  whole  multitude  heard  of  it,  they  were  enraged,  and 
betook  themselves  to  their  arms.  So  a  great  many  of  them 
got  together  from  all  quarters  the  next  day,  and  came  to  the 
city  Asochis,  where  I  then  lodged,  and  made  heavy  clamors, 
and  called  the  city  of  Tiberias  a  traitor  to  them,  and  a  friend 
to  the  king;  and  desired  leave  of  me  to  go  down  and  utterly 
destroy  it ;  for  they  bore  the  like  ill-will  to  the  people  of 
Tiberias  as  they  did  to  those  of  Sepphoris. 

When  I  heard  this,  I  was  in  doubt  what  to  do,  and  hesi- 
tated by  what  means  I  might  deliver  Tiberias  from  the  rage 
of  the  Galileans;  for  I  could  not  deny  that  those  of  Tiberias 
had  written  to  the  king,  and  invited  him  to  come  to  them ;  for 
his  letters  to  them,  in  answer  thereto,  would  fully  prove  the 
truth  of  that.  So  I  sat  a  long  time  musing  with  myself,  and 
then  said  to  them,  "I  know  well  enough  that  the  people  of 
Tiberias  have  offended ;  nor  shall  I  forbid  you  to  plunder 
the  city.  However,  such  things  ought  to  be  done  with  dis- 
cretion ;  for  they  of  Tiberias  have  not  been  the  only  betrayers 
of  our  liberty,  but  many  of  the  most  eminent  patriots  of  the 
Galileans,  as  they  pretended  to  be,  have  done  the  same. 
Tarry,  therefore,  till  I  shall  thoroughly  find  out  those  authors 
of  our  danger,  and  then  you  shall  have  them  all  at  once  under 
your  power,  with  all  such  as  you  shall  yourselves  bring  in 
also."  Upon  my  saying  this,  I  pacified  the  multitude,  and 
they  left  off  their  anger,  and  went  their  ways;  and  I  gave 
orders  that  he  who  brought  the  king's  letters  should  be  put 
into  bonds ;  but  in  a  few  days  I  pretended  that  I  was  obliged, 
by  a  necessary  affair  of  my  own,  to  go  out  of  the  kingdom. 
I  then  called  Crispus  privately,  and  ordered  him  to  make 
the  soldier  that  kept  him  drunk,  and  to  run  away  to  the 
king.  So  when  Tiberias  was  in  danger  of  being  utterly  de- 
stroyed a  second  time,  it  escaped  the  danger  by  my  skillful 
management,  and  the  care  that  I  had  for  its  preservation. 

About  this  time  it  was  that  Justus,  the  son  of  Pistus,  with- 
out my  knowledge,  ran  away  to  the  king;  the  occasion  of 
which  I  will  here  relate.  Upon  the  beginning  of  the  war 
between  the  Jews  and  the  Romans,  the  people  of  Tiberias 
resolved  to  submit  to  the  king,  and  not  to  revolt  from  the 

A.  V.  1—13 


194  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

Romans ;  while  Justus  tried  to  persuade  them  to  betake  them- 
selves to  their  arms,  as  being  himself  desirous  of  innovations, 
and  having  hopes  of  obtaining  the  government  of  Galilee,  as 
well  as  of  his  own  country  [Tiberias]  also.  Yet  did  he  not 
obtain  what  he  hoped  for,  because  the  Galileans  bore  ill-will 
to  those  of  Tiberias,  and  this  on  account  of  their  anger  at 
what  miseries  they  had  suffered  from  them  before  the  war; 
thence  it  was  that  they  would  not  endure  that  Justus  should 
be  their  governor.  I  myself  also,  who  had  been  intrusted  by 
the  community  of  Jerusalem  with  the  government  of  Galilee, 
did  frequently  come  to  that  degree  of  rage  at  Justus,  that 
I  had  almost  resolved  to  kill  him,  as  not  able  to  bear  his 
mischievous  disposition.  He  was  therefore  much  afraid  of 
me,  lest  at  length  my  passion  should  come  to  extremity;  so 
he  went  to  the  king,  as  supposing  that  he  would  dwell  better 
and  more  safely  with  him. 

Now  when  the  people  of  Sepphoris  had,  in  so  surprising 
a  manner,  escaped  their  first  danger,  they  sent  to  Cestius 
Gallus,  and  desired  him  to  come  to  them  immediately,  and 
take  possession  of  their  city,  or  else  to  send  forces  sufficient 
to  repress  all  their  enemies'  incursions  upon  them;  and  at  the 
last  they  did  prevail  with  Gallus  to  send  them  a  considerable 
army,  both  of  horse  and  foot,  which  came  in  the  night-time, 
and  which  they  admitted  into  the  city.  But  when  the  country 
round  about  it  was  harassed  by  the  Roman  army,  I  took  those 
soldiers  that  were  about  me,  and  came  to  Garisme,  where  I 
cast  up  a  bank,  a  good  way  off  the  city  Sepphoris ;  and  when 
I  was  at  twenty  furlongs'  distance,  I  came  upon  it  by  night, 
and  made  an  assault  upon  its  walls  with  my  forces :  and  when 
I  had  ordered  a  considerable  number  of  my  soldiers  to  scale 
them  with  ladders,  I  became  master  of  the  greatest  part  of 
the  city.  But  soon  after,  our  unacquaintedness  with  the 
places  forced  us  to  retire,  after  we  had  killed  twelve  .of  the 
Roman  footmen,  and  two  horsemen,  and  a  few  of  the  people 
of  Sepphoris,  with  the  loss  of  only  a  single  man  of  our  own. 
And  when  it  afterwards  came  to  a  battle  in  the  plain  against 
the  horsemen,  and  we  had  undergone  the  dangers  of  it  cou- 
rageously for  a  long  time,  we  were  beaten ;  for  upon  the 
Romans  encompassing  me  about,  my  soldiers  were  afraid,  and 
fell  bafk.  There  fell  in  that  battle  one  of  those  that  had 


JOSEPHUS  195 

been  intrusted  to  guard  my  body ;  his  name  was  Justus,  who 
at  this  time  had  the  same  post  with  the  king.  At  the  same 
time  also  there  came  forces,  both  horsemen  and  footmen, 
from  the  king,  and  Sylla  their  commander,  who  was  the  cap- 
tain of  his  guard ;  this  Sylla  pitched  his  camp  at  five  fur- 
longs' distance  from  Julias,  and  set  a  guard  upon  the  roads, 
both  that  which  led  to  Cana,  and  that  which  led  to  the 
fortress  Gamala,  that  he  might  hinder  their  inhabitants  from 
getting  provisions  out  of  Galilee. 

As  soon  as  I  had  got  intelligence  of  this,  I  sent  two 
thousand  armed  men,  and  a  captain  over  them,  whose  name 
was  Jeremiah,  who  raised  a  bank  a  furlong  off  Julias,  near 
to  the  river  Jordan,  and  did  no  more  than  skirmish  with  the 
enemy ;  till  I  took  three  thousand  soldiers  myself,  and  came 
to  them.  But  on  the  next  day,  when  I  had  laid  an  ambush 
in  a  certain  valley,  not  far  from  the  banks,  I  provoked  those 
that  belonged  to  the  king  to  come  to  a  battle,  and  gave  orders 
to  my  own  soldiers  to  turn  their  backs  upon  them,  until  they 
should  have  drawn  the  enemy  away  from  their  camp,  and 
brought  them  out  into  the  field,  which  was  done  accordingly ; 
for  Sylla,  supposing  that  our  party  did  really  run  away,  was 
ready  to  pursue  them,  when  our  soldiers  that  lay  in  ambush 
took  them  on  their  backs,  and  put  them  all  into  great  dis- 
order. I  also  immediately  made  a  sudden  turn  with  my  own 
forces,  and  met  those  of  the  king's  party,  and  put  them  to 
flight.  And  I  had  performed  great  things  that  day,  if  a  cer- 
tain fate  had  not  been  my  hindrance ;  for  the  horse  on  which 
I  rode,  and  upon  whose  back  I  fought,  fell  into  a  quagmire, 
and  threw  me  on  the  ground ;  and  I  was  bruised  on  my  wrist, 
and  carried  into  a  village  named  Cepharnome,  or  Capernaum. 
When  my  soldiers  heard  of  this,  they  were  afraid  I  had  been 
worse  hurt  than  I  was ;  and  so  they  did  not  go  on  with  their 
pursuit  any  further,  but  returned  in  very  great  concern  for 
me.  I  therefore  sent  for  the  physicians,  and  while  I  was 
under  their  hands,  I  continued  feverish  that  day ;  and,  as  the 
physicians  directed,  I  was  that  night  removed  to  Taricheae. 

When  Sylla  and  his  party  were  informed  what  happened 
to  me,  they  took  courage  again ;  and  understanding  that  the 
watch  was  negligently  kept  in  our  camp,  they  by  night  placed 
a  body  of  horsemen  in  ambush  beyond  Jordan,  and  when  it 


196  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

was  day  they  provoked  us  to  fight ;  and  as  we  did  not  refuse 
it,  but  came  into  the  plain,  their  horsemen  appeared  out  of 
that  ambush  in  which  they  had  lain,  and  put  our  men  into 
disorder,  and  made  them  run  away;  so  they  slew  six  men  of 
our  side.  Yet  did  they  not  go  off  with  the  victory  at  last; 
for  when  they  heard  that  some  armed  men  were  sailed  from 
Tarichete  to  Julias,  they  were  afraid,  and  retired. 

It  was  not  now  long  before  Vespasian  came  to  Tyre,  and 
King  Agrippa  with  him :  but  the  Tyrians  began  to  speak  re- 
proachfully of  the  king,  and  called  him  an  enemy  to  the 
Romans;  for  they  said  that  Philip,  the  general  of  his  army, 
had  betrayed  the  royal  palace  and  the  Roman  forces  that 
were  in  Jerusalem,  and  that  it  was  done  by  his  command. 
When  Vespasian  heard  of  this  report,  he  rebuked  the  Tyrians 
for  abusing  a  man  who  was  both  a  king  and  a  friend  to  the 
Romans ;  but  he  exhorted  the  king  to  send  Philip  to  Rome,  to 
answer  for  what  he  had  done  before  Nero.  But  when  Philip 
was  sent  thither,  he  did  not  come  into  the  sight  of  Nero,  for 
he  found  him  very  near  death,  on  account  of  the  troubles 
that  then  happened,  and  a  civil  war ;  and  so  he  returned  to 
the  king.  But  when  Vespasian  was  come  to  Ptolemais,  the 
chief  men  of  Decapolis  of  Syria  made  a  clamor  against 
Justus  of  Tiberias,  because  he  had  set  their  villages  on  fire: 
so  Vespasian  delivered  him  to  the  king,  to  be  put  to  death 
by  those  under  the  king's  jurisdiction;  yet  did  the  king 
only  put  him  into  bonds,  and  concealed  what  he  had  done 
from  Vespasian,  as  I  have  before  related.  But  the  people 
of  Sepphoris  met  Vespasian,  and  saluted  him,  and  had  forces 
sent  him,  with  Placidus  their  commander:  he  also  went  up 
with  them,  as  I  also  followed  them,  till  Vespasian  came  into 
Galilee.  As  to  which  coming  of  his,  and  after  what  manner 
it  was  ordered,  and  how  he  fought  his  first  battle  with  me 
near  the  village  Tarichea?,  and  how  from  thence  they  went  to 
Jotapata,  and  how  I  was  taken  alive,  and  bound,  and  how 
I  was  afterward  loosed,  with  all  that  was  done  by  me  in 
the  Jewish  war,  and  during  the  siege  of  Jerusalem,  I  have 
accurately  related  them  in  the  books  concerning  the  war  of 
the  Jews.  However,  it  will.  I  think,  be  fit  for  me  to  add 
now  an  account  of  those  actions  of  my  life  which  I  have  not 
related  in  that  book  of  the  Jewish  war. 


JOSEPHUS  197 

For,  when  the  siege  of  Jotapata  was  over,  and  I  was  among 
the  Romans,  I  was  kept  with  much  care,  by  means  of  the 
great  respect  that  Vespasian  showed  me.  Moreover,  at  his 
command,  I  married  a  virgin,  who  was  from  among  the 
captives  of  that  country : 3  yet  did  she  not  live  with  me  long, 
but  was  divorced,  upon  my  being  freed  from  my  bonds,  and 
my  going  to  Alexandria.  However,  I  married  another  wife 
at  Alexandria,  and  was  thence  sent,  together  with  Titus,  to 
the  siege  of  Jerusalem,  and  was  frequently  in  danger  of  be- 
ing put  to  death, — while  both  the  Jews  were  very  desirous  to 
get  me  under  their  power,  in  order  to  have  me  punished; 
and  the  Romans  also,  whenever  they  were  beaten,  supposed 
that  it  was  occasioned  by  my  treachery,  and  made  continual 
clamors  to  the  emperors,  and  desired  that  they  would  bring 
me  to  punishment,  as  a  traitor  to  them:  but  Titus  Caesar 
was  well  acquainted  with  the  uncertain  fortune  of  war,  and 
returned  no  answer  to  the  soldiers'  vehement  solicitations 
against  me.  Moreover,  when  the  city  of  Jerusalem  was  taken 
by  force,  Titus  Cassar  persuaded  me  frequently  to  take  what- 
soever I  would  of  the  ruins  of  my  country,  and  said  that  he 
gave  me  leave  so  to  do ;  but  when  my  country  was  destroyed, 
I  thought  nothing  else  to  be  of  any  value  which  I  could 
take  and  keep  as  a  comfort  under  my  calamities ;  so  I  made 
this  request  to  Titus,  that  my  family  might  have  their  liberty : 
I  had  also  the  holy  books  by  Titus 's  concession:  nor  was  it 
long  after,  that  I  asked  of  him  the  life  of  my  brother,  and  of 
fifty  friends  with  him;  and  was  not  denied.  When  I  also 
went  once  to  the  temple,  by  the  permission  of  Titus,  where 
there  were  a  great  multitude  of  captive  women  and  children, 
I  got  all  those  that  I  remembered,  as  among  my  own  friends 
and  acquaintances,  to  be  set  free,  being  in  number  about  one 
hundred  and  ninety ;  and  so  I  delivered  them,  without  their 
paying  any  price  of  redemption,  and  restored  them  to  their 
former  fortune ;  and  when  I  was  sent  by  Titus  Cnesar  with 
Cerealius,  and  a  thousand  horsemen,  to  a  certain  village 
called  Thecoa,  in  order  to  know  whether  it  were  a  place  fit 
for  a  camp,  as  I  came  back,  I  saw  many  captives  crucified ; 

*  Here  Josephus,  a  priest,  honestly  confesses  that  he  did  that  at  the 
command  of  Vespasian,  which  he  had  before  told  us  was  not  lawful  for 
a  priest  to  do  by  the  law  of  Moses,  (Antiq.  b.  iii.  ch.  xii.  sect.  2).  I 
mean,  the  taking  a  captive  woman  to  wife. 


198  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

and  remembered  three  of  them  as  my  former  acquaintance. 
I  was  very  sorry  at  this  in  my  mind,  and  went  with  tears  in 
my  eyes  to  Titus,  and  told  him  of  them ;  so  he  immediately 
commanded  them  to  be  taken  down,  and  to  have  the  greatest 
care  taken  of  them,  in  order  to  their  recovery;  yet  two  of 
them  died  under  the  physician's  hands,  while  the  third  re- 
covered. 

But  when  Titus  had  composed  the  troubles  in  Judea,  and 
conjectured  that  the  lands  which  I  had  in  Judea  would  bring 
me  no  profit,  because  a  garrison  to  guard  the  country  was 
afterward  to  pitch  there,  he  gave  me  another  country  in  the 
plains,  and,  when  he  was  going  away  to  Rome,  he  made  choice 
of  me  to  sail  along  with  him,  and  paid  me  great  respect ;  and 
when  we  were  come  to  Rome,  I  had  great  care  taken  of  me  by 
Vespasian ;  for  he  gave  me  an  apartment  in  his  own  house, 
which  he  lived  in  before  he  came  to  the  empire.  He  also  hon- 
ored me  with  the  privilege  of  a  Roman  citizen,  and  gave  me 
an  annual  pension ;  and  continued  to  respect  me  to  the  end  of 
his  life,  without  any  abatement  of  his  kindness  to  me ;  which 
very  thing  made  me  envied,  and  brought  me  into  danger;  for 
a  certain  Jew,  whose  name  was  Jonathan,  who  had  raised  a 
tumult  in  Cyrene,  and  had  persuaded  two  thousand  men  of 
that  country  to  join  with  him,  was  the  occasion  of  their  ruin ; 
but  when  he  was  bound  by  the  governor  of  that  country,  and 
sent  to  the  emperor,  he  told  him  that  I  had  sent  him  both 
weapons  and  money.  However,  he  could  not  conceal  his  being 
a  liar  from  Vespasian,  who  condemned  him  to  die;  according 
to  which  sentence  he  was  put  to  death.  Nay,  after  that,  when 
those  that  envied  my  good  fortune  did  frequently  bring  ac- 
cusations against  me,  by  God 's  providence  I  escaped  them  all. 
I  also  received  from  Vespasian  no  small  quantity  of  land,  as 
a  free  gift,  in  Judea ;  about  which  time  I  divorced  my  wife 
also,  as  not  pleased  with  her  behavior,  though  not  till  she  had 
been  the  mother  of  three  children  ;  two  of  whom  are  dead,  and 
one,  whom  I  had  named  Ilyrcanus,  is  alive.  After  this  I 
married  a  wife  who  had  lived  at  Crete,  but  a  Jewess  by  birth : 
a  woman  she  was  of  eminent  parents,  and  such  as  were  the 
most  illustrious  in  all  the  country,  and  whose  character  was 
beyond  that  of  most  other  women,  as  her  future  life  did  dem- 
onstrate. By  her  I  had  two  sons;  the  elder's  name  was  Jus- 


JOSEPHUS  199 

tus,  and  the  next  Simonides,  who  was  also  named  Agrippa: 
and  these  were  the  circumstances  of  my  domestic  affairs. 
However,  the  kindness  of  the  emperor  to  me  continued  still 
the  same ;  for  when  Vespasian  was  dead,  Titus,  who  succeeded 
him  in  the  government,  kept  up  the  same  respect  for  me  which 
I  had  from  his  father;  and  when  I  had  frequent  accusations 
laid  against  me,  he  would  not  believe  them:  and  Domitian, 
who  succeeded,  still  augmented  his  respects  to  me;  for  he 
punished  those  Jews  that  were  my  accusers;  and  gave  com- 
mand that  a  servant  of  mine,  who  was  a  eunuch,  and  my  ac- 
cuser, should  be  punished.  He  also  made  that  country  I  had 
in  Judea  tax-free,  which  is  a  mark  of  the  greatest  honor  to 
him  who  hath  it ;  nay,  Domitia,  the  wife  of  Caesar,  continued 
to  do  me  kindnesses.  And  this  is  the  account  of  my  whole 
life;  and  let  others  judge  of  my  character  by  them  as  they 
please;  but  to  thee,  O  Epaphroditus,  thou  most  excellent  of 
men !  do  I  dedicate  all  this  treatise  of  our  Antiquities;  and  so, 
for  the  present,  I  here  conclude  the  whole. 


THE   END 


MARCUS  AURELIUS  ANTONINUS 


•'?/<)'{//.    r'fl.I'IH   I/    ^ '! 'I!'/!.' 


MARCUS  AURELIUS 

THE   EMPEROR  PHILOSOPHER 
121-180  A.  D. 

(INTRODUCTORY  NOTE) 

Marcus  Aurelius  Antoninus  is  accepted  by  common  consent  as  the 
noblest  figure  in  Roman,  perhaps  in  all  pagan,  history.  He  was  of  a 
patrician  Roman  family  and  so  notable  even  in  his  earliest  youth  for 
ability  and  honesty  that  he  was  highly  honored  by  both  Hadrian  and 
Antoninus  Pius,  the  two  emperors  who  preceded  him.  Antoninus  adopted 
him  as  a  son  and  made  him  heir  to  the  imperial  throne.  Aurelius  ruled 
the  Roman  world  from  the  year  161  until  his  death.  Most  of  this  world's 
affections  disappointed  him;  both  his  wife  and  his  adopted  brother  and 
co-emperor  were  notorious  for  their  vicious  lives.  His  friends  died;  the 
Barbarians  attacked  the  empire;  his  whole  reign  was  spent  in  battle 
against  foreign  foes  or  Roman  rebels.  Yet  he  never  wittingly  did  any 
man  injustice,  and  was  ever  ready  to  forgive  a  foe  or  befriend  a  sufferer. 
He  is  the  most  noteworthy  of  the  Stoic  philosophers. 

The  ' '  Meditations ' '  of  this  high-souled  pagan  were  unknown  until 
about  the  year  1550  when  a  manuscript  of  the  work  was  discovered  and 
published.  Since  then  it  has  stood  as  one  of  the  world's  most  cele- 
brated and  most  valued  books.  No  other  pagan  work  so  nearly  ap- 
proaches the  Christian  spirit  of  faith  and  obedience  toward  God  and 
love  and  toleration  toward  all  men. 

The  "Meditations"  were  first  written  in  Greek  and  for  the  emperor's 
own  study  and  perusal.  They  tell  little  of  his  outer  history,  but  reveal 
so  much  of  his  inner  life,  so  much  of  his  soul's  sorrow  and  its  strength, 
that  they  are  usually  classed  as  autobiographical.  They  certainly  take 
the  first  great  step  toward  our  modern  conception  of  autobiography  in 
that,  unlike  all  earlier  biographical  works,  they  tell  of  the  effect  of  the 
world  upon  the  man  rather  than  of  his  effect  upon  the  world.  They 
describe  not  the  writer 's  deeds  but  his  spiritual  and  mental  development. 


201 


202  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

THE  MEDITATIONS  OF  MARCUS  AURELIUS 

BOOK  I 

THE  example  of  my  grandfather  Verus  gave  me  a  good  dis- 
position, not  prone  to  anger. 

By  the  recollection  of  my  father's1  character,  I  learned  to 
be  both  modest  and  manly. 

As  for  my  mother,  she  taught  me  to  have  regard  for  relig- 
ion, to  be  generous  and  open-handed,  and  not  only  to  forbear 
from  doing  anybody  an  ill  turn,  but  not  so  much  as  to  endure 
the  thought  of  it.  By  her  likewise  I  was  bred  to  a  plain,  in- 
expensive way  of  living,  very  different  from  the  common  lux- 
ury of  the  rich. 

I  have  to  thank  my  great-grandfather  that  I  did  not  go  to 
a  public  school,  but  had  good  masters  at  home,  and  learned  to 
know  that  one  ought  to  spend  liberally  on  such  things. 

From  my  governor  I  learned  not  to  join  either  the  green 
or  the  blue  faction  on  the  race-ground,  nor  to  support  the 
Parmularius  or  Scutarius  at  the  gladiators'  shows.  He  taught 
me  also  to  put  my  own  hand  to  business  upon  occasion,  to 
endure  hardship  and  fatigues,  and  to  throw  the  necessities 
of  nature  into  a  little  compass;  that  I  ought  not  to  meddle 
with  other  people's  business,  nor  be  easy  in  giving  credit  to 
informers. 

From  Diognetus,  to  shun  vain  pursuits,  not  to  be  led  away 
with  the  impostures  of  wizards  and  soothsayers,  who  pretend 
they  can  discharge  evil  spirits,  and  do  strange  feats  by  the 
strength  of  a  charm ;  not  to  keep  quails  for  the  pit,  nor  to  be 
eager  after  any  such  thing.  This  Diognetus  taught  me  to 
bear  freedom  and  plain-dealing  in  others,  and  apply  myself 
to  philosophy.  He  also  procured  me  the  instruction  of  Bac- 
chius,  Tandasis,  and  Marcianus.  He  likewise  put  me  upon 
improving  myself  by  writing  dialogues  when  I  was  a  boy ; 
prevailed  with  me  to  prefer  a  couch  covered  with  hides  to  a 
bed  of  state ;  and  reconciled  me  to  other  like  rigors  of  the 
Grecian  discipline. 

1  Annius  Verus  was  the  name  of  both  his  grandfather  and  father;  his 
mother  'a  name  was  Domitia  Calvilla.  The  emperor  T.  Antoninus  Pius 
married  the  paternal  aunt  of  Marcus  Aurclius,  and  adopted  him. 


MARCUS  AURELIUS  203 

It  was  Rusticus  2  that  first  made  me  desire  to  live  rightly, 
and  come  to  a  better  state;  who  prevented  me  from  running 
into  the  vanity  of  sophists,  either  by  writing  speculative 
treatises,  haranguing  upon  moral  subjects,  or  making  a  fan- 
tastical appearance  or  display  of  generosity  or  discipline. 
This  philosophy  kept  me  from  yielding  to  the  charms  of 
rhetoric  and  poetry,  from  affecting  the  character  of  a  man  of 
pleasantry,  from  wearing  my  senator's  robe  in  the  house,  or 
anything  of  this  kind  which  looks  like  conceit  and  affectation, 
lie  taught  me  to  write  letters  in  a  plain,  unornamental  style, 
like  that  dated  by  him  from  Sinuessa  to  my  mother.  By  his 
instructions  I  was  persuaded  to  be  easily  reconciled  to  those 
who  had  misbehaved  themselves  and  disobliged  me,  as  soon  as 
they  desired  reconciliation.  And  of  the  same  master  I  learned 
to  read  an  author  carefully.  Not  to  take  up  with  a  superficial 
view,  or  assent  quickly  to  idle  talkers.  And,  to  conclude  with 
him,  he  gave  me  his  own  copy  of  Epictetus's  memoirs. 

Apollonius 3  taught  me  to  give  my  mind  its  due  freedom, 
and  disengage  it  from  dependence  upon  chance,  and  not  to 
regard,  though  ever  so  little,  anything  uncountenanced  by 
reason.  To  maintain  an  equality  of  temper,  even  in  acute 
pains,  and  loss  of  children,  or  tedious  sickness.  His  practice 
vas  an  excellent  instance,  that  a  man  may  be  forcible  and  yet 
unbend  his  humor  as  occasion  requires.  The  heaviness  and 
impertinence  of  his  scholars  could  seldom  rouse  his  ill-temper. 
As  for  his  learning,  and  the  peculiar  happiness  of  his  manner 
in  teaching,  he  was  so  far  from  being  proud  of  himself  upon 
this  score,  that  one  might  easily  perceive,  he  thought  it  one  of 
the  least  things  which  belonged  to  him.  This  great  man  let 
me  into  the  true  secret  of  receiving  an  obligation,  without 
either  lessening  myself,  or  seeming  ungrateful  to  my  friend. 

The  philosopher  Sextus  recommended  good-humor  to  me, 
and  showed  me  the  pattern  of  a  household  governed  in  a 
fatherly  manner.  He  also  bade  me  make  nature  and  reason 
my  rule  to  live  by.  By  his  precedent  I  was  instructed  to  ap- 
pear with  an  unaffected  gravity,  to  study  the  temper  and  cir- 
cumstances of  my  friends  in  order  to  oblige  them.  I  saw 

1 L.  Junius  Rusticus  was  a  Stoic  philosopher  who  was  put  to  death  by 
Domitian. 
1  Apollonius  of  Chalcis  was  a  Stoic  philosopher. 


204  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

him  bearing  with  the  ignorant  and  undiscerning,  complaisant 
and  obliging  to  all  people,  so  that  his  conversation  was  more 
charming  than  flattery ;  and  yet  at  the  same  time  he  was  held 
in  the  highest  reverence  by  others.  Conversing  with  this  phi- 
losopher helped  me  to  draw  up  a  true,  intelligible,  and  me- 
thodical scheme  for  life  and  manners,  and  never  so  much  as 
to  show  the  least  sign  of  anger,  or  any  other  disturbing 
thought,  but  to  be  perfectly  calm  and  indifferent,  yet  tender- 
hearted. However,  he  let  me  see  in  himself  that  a  man  might 
show  his  good-will  significantly  enough,  without  noise  and 
display,  and  likewise  possess  great  knowledge  without  vanity 
and  ostentation. 

Alexander  the  Grammarian  taught  me  not  to  be  ruggedly 
critical  about  words,  nor  find  fault  with  people  for  improprie- 
ties of  phrase  or  pronunciation,  but  to  set  them  right  by 
speaking  the  thing  properly  myself,  and  that  either  by  way 
of  answer,  assent,  or  inquiry,  or  by  some  such  other  indirect 
and  suitable  correction. 

Fronto  *  taught  me  that  envy,  tricking,  and  dissimulation 
are  the  character  and  consequences  of  tyranny ;  and  that  those 
we  call  patricians  have  commonly  not  much  fatherly  feeling 
in  them. 

Alexander  the  Platonist  advised  me,  that  without  neces- 
sity I  should  never  say  to  any  one,  nor  write  in  a  letter,  that  I 
am  not  at  leisure,  nor  make  business  an  excuse  to  decline  fre- 
quently the  offices  of  humanity  to  those  we  dwell  with. 

I  learned  of  Catulus  5  not  to  slight  a  friend  for  making  a 
remonstrance,  though  it  should  happen  to  be  unreasonable, 
but  rather  to  endeavor  to  restore  him  to  his  natural  humor. 
That,  like  Domitius  and  Athenodotus,  I  should  always  speak 
well  of  those  who  had  the  care  of  my  education,  and  that  I 
should  always  preserve  an  hearty  affection  for  my  children. 

I  am  indebted  to  Severus  6  for  the  love  I  bear  to  my  rela- 
tions, and  towards  justice  and  truth.  He  likewise  made  me 
acquainted  with  the  character  and  sentiments  of  Cato,  Brutus, 
Thrasea,  Helvidius,  and  Dio;  and  gave  me  the  idea  of  an 
equal  commonwealth,  with  equal  rights  and  equal  speech,  and 

*  M.  Cornelius  Fronto  was  a  rhetorician  who  was  the  emperor's  tutor. 
Part  of  Marcus  Aurelius'  correspondence  with  him  is  extant. 

•Cinna  Catulus  was  a  Stoic  philosopher. 

•  Claudius  Severus  was  a  Stoic  philosopher. 


MARCUS  AURELIUS  205 

also  of  a  monarchy,  where  the  liberty  of  the  subject  was  prin- 
cipally regarded.  To  mention  some  more  of  my  obligations 
to  him : — It  was  of  him  I  learned  not  to  grow  wise  by  starts 
and  sudden  fancies,  but  to  be  a  constant  admirer  of  philosophy 
and  improvement ;  that  a  man  ought  to  be  generous  and  oblig- 
ing, hope  the  best  of  matters,  and  never  question  the  affection 
of  his  friends;  to  be  free  in  showing  a  reasonable  dislike  of 
another,  and  no  less  clear  in  his  own  expectations  and  desires  ; 
and  not  to  put  his  friends  to  the  trouble  of  divining  what  he 
would  be  at. 

I  learned  from  Maximus 7  to  command  myself,  and  not  to 
be  too  much  drawn  towards  anything;  to  be  full  of  spirits 
under  sickness  and  misfortune ;  to  appear  with  modesty,  oblig- 
ingness, and  dignity  of  behavior ;  to  turn  off  business  smoothly 
as  it  arises,  without  drudging  and  complaint.  Whatever  he 
did,  all  men  believed  him,  that  as  he  spoke,  so  he  thought, 
and  whatever  he  did,  that  he  did  with  a  good  intent.  He 
attained  that  greatness  of  mind,  not  to  wonder  or  start  at 
anything;  neither  to  hurry  an  enterprise,  nor  sleep  over  it; 
never  to  be  puzzled  or  dejected,  nor  to  put  on  an  appearance 
of  friendliness ;  not  to  be  angry  or  suspicious,  but  ever  ready 
to  do  good,  and  to  forgive  and  speak  truth ;  and  all  this  as  one 
who  seemed  rather  of  himself  to  be  straight  and  right,  than 
ever  to  have  been  rectified.  Nobody  ever  could  fancy  they 
were  slighted  by  him,  or  dared  to  think  themselves  his  betters. 
Besides  all  this,  he  had  an  agreeable  wit. 

In  my  adoptive  father  I  observed  a  smooth  and  inoffensive 
temper,  with  great  steadiness  in  keeping  close  to  measures 
judiciously  taken ;  a  greatness  proof  against  vanity  and  the 
impressions  of  pomp  and  power.  From  him  a  prince  might 
learn  to  love  business  and  action,  and  be  constantly  at  it ;  to 
be  willing  to  hear  out  any  proposal  relating  to  public  advan- 
tage, and  undeviatingly  give  every  man  his  due ;  to  understand 
the  critical  seasons  and  circumstances  for  rigor  or  remissness. 
To  have  no  boy-favorites.  Not  to  stand  upon  points  of  state 
and  prerogative,  but  to  leave  his  nobility  at  perfect  liberty 
in  their  visits  and  attendance;  and  when  he  was  upon  his 
progress,  no  man  lost  his  favor  for  not  being  at  leisure  to 
follow  the  court.  To  debate  matters  nicely  and  thoroughly 

'(Jlaudiua  Maximua  was  a  Stoic  philosopher. 


806  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

at  the  council-board,  and  then  to  stand  by  what  was  resolved 
on,  yet  not  hastily  to  give  up  the  inquiry,  as  one  easily  satisfied 
with  sudden  notions  and  apprehensions.  To  be  constant  to  a 
friend,  without  tiring  or  fondness.  To  be  always  satisfied 
and  cheerful.  To  reach  forward  into  the  future,  and  manage 
accordingly.  Not  to  neglect  the  least  concerns,  but  all  with- 
out hurry,  or  being  embarrassed.  Farther,  by  observing  his 
methods  and  administrations,  I  had  the  opportunity  of  learn- 
ing how  much  it  was  the  part  of  a  prince  to  check  the  excesses 
of  panegyric  and  flattery.  To  have  his  magazines  and  ex- 
chequer well  furnished.  To  be  frugal  in  his  expenses,  with- 
out minding  being  lampooned  for  his  pains.  Not  to  worship 
the  gods  to  superstition ;  not  to  court  the  populace,  either  by 
prodigality  or  compliment;  but  rather  to  be  sober  and  firm 
upon  all  occasions,  keeping  things  in  a  steady  decorum,  with- 
out chopping  and  changing  of  measures.  To  enjoy  the  plenty 
and  magnificence  of  a  sovereign  fortune  without  bragging, 
and  yet  without  making  excuse;  so  as  freely  to  enjoy  them 
when  present,  but  when  wanting,  not  to  be  mortified  at  the 
loss  of  them.  And  to  behave  himself  so  that  no  man  could 
charge  him  with  sophistry,  or  buffooning,  or  being  a  pedant. 
No;  he  was  a  person  mature  and  perfect,  scorning  flattery, 
and  thoroughly  qualified  to  govern  himself  and  others.  As 
for  those  that  were  philosophers  in  earnest,  he  had  a  great 
regard  for  them,  but  without  reproaching  those  who  were 
otherwise,  nor  yet  being  led  away  by  these.  He  was  con- 
descending and  familiar  in  conversation,  and  pleasant  too,  but 
not  to  tiresomeness  and  excess.  As  for  his  health,  he  was 
not  anxious  about  it,  like  one  fond  of  living,  or  over-studious 
of  bodily  appearance,  and  yet  managed  his  constitution  with 
that  care  as  seldom  to  stand  in  need  of  the  assistance  of 
physic  or  outward  applications.  Farther,  he  never  envied 
and  browbeat  those  that  were  eminent  in  any  faculty  or 
science,  as  eloquence,  or  knowledge  of  the  laws  or  morals; 
but,  on  the  contrary,  encouraged  them  in  their  ways,  and 
promoted  their  reputation.  He  observed  fitness  and  custom 
in  all  his  actions,  and  yet  did  not  seem  to  regard  them.  He 
was  not  fickle  and  fluttering  in  his  humor,  but  constant  both 
to  place  and  undertaking;  and  I  have  seen  him,  after  violent 
fits  of  the  headache,  return  fresh  and  vigorous  to  his  usual 


MARCUS  AURELIUS  207 

business.  He  kept  but  few  things  to  himself,  and  those  were 
secrets  of  government.  He  was  very  moderate  and  frugal 
in  shows,  public  buildings,  liberalities,  and  such  like,  being 
one  that  did  not  so  much  regard  the  popularity  as  the  right- 
ness  of  an  action.  It  was  none  of  his  custom  to  bathe  at  un- 
usual hours,  or  to  be  overcome  with  the  fancy  of  building,  to 
study  eating  and  luxury,  to  value  the  curiosity  of  his  clothes, 
or  the  shape  and  person  of  his  servants.  His  cloak  came  from 
Lorium,  his  villa  on  the  coast ;  at  Lanuvium,  he  wore  for  the 
most  part  only  a  tunic ;  and  at  Tusculum  he  would  scarcely  so 
much  as  put  on  a  cloak  without  making  an  excuse  for  it.  To 
take  him  altogether,  there  was  nothing  of  ruggedness,  im- 
modesty, or  eagerness  in  his  temper.  Neither  did  he  ever 
seem  to  drudge  and  sweat  at  the  helm.  Things  were  dis- 
patched at  leisure,  and  without  being  felt ;  and  yet  the  admin- 
istration was  carried  on  without  confusion,  with  great  order, 
force,  and  uniformity.  Upon  the  whole,  what  was  told  of 
Socrates  is  applicable  to  him;  for  he  was  so  much  master  of 
himself,  that  he  could  either  take  or  leave  those  conveniences 
of  life  with  respect  to  which  most  people  are  either  uneasy 
without  them,  or  intemperate  with  them.  Now,  to  hold  on 
with  fortitude  in  one  condition  and  sobriety  in  the  other  is  a 
proof  of  a  great  soul  and  an  impregnable  virtue,  such  as  he 
showed  in  the  sickness  of  Maximus. 

I  have  to  thank  the  gods  that  my  grandfathers,  parents, 
sister,  preceptors,  relations,  friends,  and  domestics  were  al- 
most all  of  them  persons  of  probity,  and  that  I  never  happened 
to  disoblige  or  misbehave  myself  towards  any  of  them,  not- 
withstanding that  my  disposition  was  such,  that,  had  occasion 
offered,  I  might  have  acted  thus ;  but  by  the  goodness  of  the 
gods,  I  met  with  no  provocations  to  reveal  my  infirmities.  It 
is  likewise  by  their  providence  that  my  childhood  was  no 
longer  managed  by  my  grandfather's  mistress;  that  I  pre- 
served the  flower  of  my  youth ;  that  I  was  subject  to  the  em- 
peror my  father,  and  bred  under  him,  who  was  the  most 
proper  person  living  to  put  me  out  of  conceit  with  pride,  and 
to  convince  me  that  it  is  possible  to  live  in  a  palace  without 
the  ceremony  of  guards,  without  richness  and  distinction  of 
habit,  without  torches,  statues,  or  such  other  marks  of  royalty 
and  state ;  and  that  a  prince  may  shrink  himself  almost  into 


208 

the  figure  of  a  private  gentleman,  and  yet  act,  nevertheless, 
with  all  the  force  and  majesty  of  his  character  when  the 
common  weal  requires  it.  It  is  the  favor  of  the  gods  that 
I  happened  to  meet  with  a  brother,  whose  behavior  and  af- 
fection is  such  as  to  contribute  both  to  my  pleasure  and  im- 
provement.8 It  is  also  their  blessing  that  my  children  were 
neither  stupid  nor  misshapen;  that  I  made  no  farther  ad- 
vances in  rhetoric,  poetry,  and  such  other  amusements,  which 
possibly  might  have  engaged  my  fancy  too  far,  had  I  found 
myself  a  considerable  proficient;  that,  without  asking,  I  gave 
my  governors  that  share  of  honor  which  they  seemed  to  de- 
sire, and  did  not  put  them  off  from  time  to  time  with  promises 
and  excuses,  because  they  were  yet  but  young ;  that  I  had  the 
happiness  of  being  acquainted  with  Apollonius,  Rusticus,  and 
Maximus;  that  I  have  a  clear  idea  of  the  life  in  accordance 
with  nature,  and  the  impression  frequently  refreshed :  so  that, 
considering  the  extraordinary  assistance  and  directions  of  the 
gods,  it  is  impossible  for  me  to  miss  the  road  of  nature  unless 
by  refusing  to  be  guided  by  the  dictates  and  almost  sensible 
inspirations  of  heaven.  It  is  by  their  favor  that  my  con- 
stitution has  held  out  so  well,  under  a  life  of  fatigue  and 
business;  that  I  never  had  to  do  with  Benedicta  or  Theodotus; 
and,  when  I  fell  into  some  fits  of  love,  I  was  soon  cured ;  that 
when  I  fell  out  with  Rusticus,  as  it  frequently  happened,  I 
was  not  transported  into  any  act  of  violence;  that  I  had  the 
satisfaction  of  my  mother's  life  and  company  a  considerable 
while,  though  she  was  destined  to  die  young ;  that  when  I  was 
willing  to  relieve  the  necessities  of  others,  I  was  never  told 
that  the  exchequer  was  empty ;  and,  again,  it  is  they  that  kept 
me  from  standing  in  need  of  any  man's  fortune.  Farther, 
it  is  from  them  that  my  wife  is  so  very  obedient  and  affec- 
tionate and  so  remote  from  luxury;  that  I  had  choice  of  good 
governors  for  my  children ;  that  remedies  were  prescribed  me 
in  a  dream  against  giddiness  and  spitting  of  blood,  as  at 
Cajeta,  by  an  ointment ;  that  when  I  had  a  mind  to  look  into 
philosophy,  I  did  not  meet  with  a  sophist  to  instruct  me;  that 
I  did  not  spend  too  much  time  in  reading  history,  chopping 

'  As  Marcus  Aurelius  had  no  blood  brother,  this  must  refer  to  his 
adopted  brother,  Lucius  Verus,  who  certainly  did  not  deserve  the  praise 
here  bestowed. 


MARCUS  AURELIUS  209 

logic,  or  considering  the  heavens.  Now  all  these  points  could 
never  have  been  compassed  without  a  protection  from  above 
and  the  gods  presiding  over  fate. 

This  was  written  in  the  country  of  the  Quadi,  at  the 
Granua. 

BOOK  n 

REMEMBER  to  put  yourself  in  mind  every  morning,  that 
before  night  it  will  be  your  luck  to  meet  with  some  busy-body, 
with  some  ungrateful,  abusive  fellow,  with  some  knavish,  en- 
vious, or  unsociable  churl  or  other.  Now  all  this  perverseness 
in  them  proceeds  from  their  ignorance  of  good  and  evil ;  and 
since  it  has  fallen  to  my  share  to  understand  the  natural 
beauty  of  a  good  action,  and  the  deformity  of  an  ill  one — 
since  I  am  satisfied  the  person  disobliging  is  of  kin  to  me,  and 
though  we  are  not  just  of  the  same  flesh  and  blood,  yet  our 
minds  are  nearly  related,  being  both  extracted  from  the  Deity 
— I  am  likewise  convinced  that  no  man  can  do  me  a  real  in- 
jury, because  no  man  can  force  me  to  misbehave  myself,  nor 
can  I  find  it  in  my  heart  to  hate  or  to  be  angry  with  one  of 
my  own  nature  and  family.  For  we  are  all  made  for  mutual 
assistance,  as  the  feet,  the  hands,  and  the  eyelids,  as  the  rows 
of  the  upper  and  under  teeth,  from  whence  it  follows  that 
clashing  and  opposition  is  perfectly  unnatural.  Now  such 
unfriendly  disposition  exists  in  resentment  and  aversion. 

This  being  of  mine,  all  there  is  of  it,  consists  of  flesh, 
breath,  and  the  ruling  part.  Away  with  your  books  then. 
Suffer  not  your  mind  any  more  to  be  distracted.  It  is  not 
permitted.  As  for  your  body,  value  it  no  more  than  if  you 
were  just  expiring.  For  what  is  it?  Nothing  but  a  little 
blood  and  bones ;  a  piece  of  network,  wrought  out  of  nerves, 
veins,  and  arteries  twisted  together.  In  the  next  place,  con- 
sider what  sort  of  thing  your  breath  is ;  why,  only  a  little  air, 
and  that  not  constant,  but  every  moment  let  out  of  your 
lungs,  and  sucked  in  again.  The  third  part  of  your  com- 
position is  the  ruling  part.  Now  consider  thus:  you  are  an 
old  man :  do  not  suffer  this  noble  part  of  you  under  servitude 
any  longer.  Let  it  not  be  moved  by  the  springs  of  selfish  pas- 
sions ;  let  it  not  quarrel  with  fate,  be  uneasy  at  the  present,  or 
afraid  of  the  future. 

A.  V.  1—14 


210  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

Providence  shines  clearly  through  the  works  of  the  gods; 
even  the  works  of  chance  are  not  without  dependence  on 
Nature,  being  only  an  effect  of  that  chain  of  causes  which 
are  under  a  providential  regulation.  Indeed,  all  things  flow 
from  this  fountain ;  besides,  there  is  necessity,  and  the  in- 
terest of  the  whole  universe,  of  which  you  are  a  part.  Now, 
that  which  is  both  the  product  and  support  of  universal 
Nature,  must  by  consequence  be  serviceable  to  every  part  of 
it;  but  the  world  subsists  upon  change,  and  is  preserved  by 
the  mutation  of  the  simple  elements,  and  also  of  things  mixed 
and  compounded,  and  what  it  loses  one  way  it  gets  another. 
Let  these  reflections  satisfy  you,  and  make  them  your  rule  to 
live  by.  As  for  books,  cast  away  your  thirst  after  them,  that 
you  may  not  die  complaining,  but  go  off  in  good-humor,  and 
heartily  thank  the  gods  for  what  you  have  had. 

Remember  how  often  you  have  postponed  minding  your 
interest,  and  let  slip  those  opportunities  the  gods  have  given 
you.  It  is  now  high  time  to  consider  what  sort  of  world  you 
are  part  of,  and  from  what  kind  of  governor  of  it  you  are 
descended ;  that  you  have  a  set  period  assigned  you  to  act  in, 
and  unless  you  improve  it  to  brighten  and  compose  your 
thoughts,  it  will  quickly  run  off  with  you,  and  be  lost  beyond 
recovery. 

Take  care  always  to  remember  that  you  are  a  man  and  a 
Roman ;  and  let  every  action  be  done  with  perfect  and  un- 
affected gravity,  humanity,  freedom,  and  justice.  And  be 
sure  you  entertain  no  fancies,  which  may  give  check  to  these 
qualities.  This  is  possible,  if  you  will  but  perform  every  ac- 
tion as  though  it  were  your  last;  if  your  appetites  and  pas- 
sions do  not  cross  upon  your  reason ;  if  you  keep  clear  of 
rashness,  and  have  nothing  of  insincerity  and  self-love  to  in- 
fect you,  and  do  not  complain  of  your  destiny.  You  see  what 
a  few  points  a  man  has  to  gain  in  order  to  attain  to  a  godlike 
way  of  living;  for  he  that  comes  thus  far,  performs  all  which 
the  immortal  powers  will  require  of  him. 

Continue  to  dishonor  yourself,  my  soul !  Neither  will 
you  have  much  time  left  to  do  yourself  honor.  For  the  life 
of  each  man  is  almost  up  already ;  and  yet,  instead  of  paying 
a  due  regard  to  yourself,  you  place  your  happiness  in  the  souls 
of  other  men. 


MARCUS  AURELIUS 

Do  not  let  accidents  disturb,  or  outward  objects  engross 
your  thoughts,  but  keep  your  mind  quiet  and  disengaged,  that 
you  may  be  at  leisure  to  learn  something  good,  and  cease 
rambling  from  one  thing  to  another.  There  is  likewise  an- 
other sort  of  roving  to  be  avoided ;  for  some  people  are  busy 
and  yet  do  nothing;  they  fatigue  and  wear  themselves  out, 
and  yet  aim  at  no  goal,  nor  purpose  any  general  end  of  action 
or  design. 

A  man  can  rarely  be  unhappy  by  being  ignorant  of  an- 
other 's  thoughts ;  but  he  that  does  not  attend  to  the  motions 
of  his  own  is  certainly  unhappy. 

These  reflections  ought  always  to  be  at  hand: — To  con- 
sider well  the  nature  of  the  universe  and  my  own  nature,  to- 
gether with  the  relation  betwixt  them,  and  what  kind  of  part 
it  is,  of  what  kind  of  whole ;  and  that  no  mortal  can  hinder  me 
from  acting  and  speaking  conformably  to  the  being  of  which 
I  am  a  part. 

Theophrastus,  in  comparing  the  degrees  of  faults  (as  men 
would  commonly  distinguish  them),  talks  like  a  philosopher 
when  he  affirms  that  those  instances  of  misbehavior  which 
proceed  from  desire  are  greater  than  those  of  which  anger  is 
the  occasion.  For  a  man  that  is  angry  seems  to  quit  his  hold 
of  reason  unwillingly  and  with  pain,  and  start  out  of  rule 
before  he  is  aware.  But  he  that  runs  riot  out  of  desire,  being 
overcome  by  pleasure,  loses  all  hold  on  himself,  and  all  manly 
restraint.  Well,  then,  and  like  a  philosopher,  he  said  that  he 
of  the  two  is  the  more  to  be  condemned  that  sins  with  pleasure 
than  he  that  sins  with  grief.  For  the  first  looks  like  an  in- 
jured person,  and  is  vexed,  and,  as  it  were,  forced  into  a  pas- 
sion ;  whereas  the  other  begins  with  inclination,  and  commits 
the  fault  through  desire. 

Manage  all  your  actions,  words,  and  thoughts  accordingly, 
since  you  may  at  any  moment  quit  life.  And  what  great 
matter  is  the  business  of  dying?  If  the  gods  are  in  being, 
you  can  suffer  nothing,  for  they  will  do  you  no  harm.  And 
if  they  are  not,  or  take  no  care  of  us  mortals — why,  then,  a 
world  without  either  gods  or  Providence  is  not  worth  a  man's 
while  to  live  in.  But,  in  truth,  the  being  of  the  gods,  and 
their  concern  in  human  affairs,  is  beyond  dispute.  And  they 
have  put  it  entirely  in  a  man's  power  not  to  fall  into  any 


LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

calamity  properly  so-called.  And  if  other  misfortunes  had 
been  really  evils,  they  would  have  provided  against  them  too, 
and  furnished  man  with  capacity  to  avoid  them.  But  how 
can  that  which  cannot  make  the  man  worse  make  his  life  so  ? 
I  can  never  be  persuaded  that  the  universal  Nature  neglected 
these  matters  through  want  of  knowledge,  or,  having  that, 
yet  lacked  the  power  to  prevent  or  correct  the  error ;  or  that 
Nature  should  commit  such  a  fault,  through  want  of  power  or 
skill,  as  to  suffer  things,  really  good  and  evil,  to  happen  pro- 
miscuously to  good  and  bad  men.  Now,  living  and  dying, 
honor  and  infamy,  pleasure  and  pain,  riches  and  poverty — 
all  these  things  are  the  common  allotment  of  the  virtuous  and 
vicious,  because  they  have  nothing  intrinsically  noble  or  base 
in  their  nature ;  and,  therefore,  to  speak  properly,  axe  neither 
good  nor  bad. 

Consider  how  quickly  all  things  are  dissolved  and  re- 
solved ;  the  bodies  and  substances  themselves  into  the  matter 
and  substance  of  the  world,  and  their  memories  into  its 
general  age  and  time.  Consider,  too,  the  objects  of  sense, 
particularly  those  which  charm  us  with  pleasure,  frighten  us 
with  pain,  or  are  most  admired  for  empty  reputation.  The 
power  of  thought  will  show  a  man  how  insignificant,  despi- 
cable, and  paltry  these  things  are,  and  how  soon  they  wither 
and  die.  It  will  show  him  what  those  people  are  upon  whose 
fancy  and  good  word  the  being  of  fame  depends:  also  the 
nature  of  death,  which,  if  once  abstracted  from  the  pomp  and 
terror  of  the  idea,  will  be  found  nothing  more  than  a  pure 
natural  action.  Now  he  that  dreads  the  course  of  nature  is 
a  very  child ;  but  this  is  not  only  a  work  of  nature,  but  is  also 
profitable  to  her.  Lastly,  we  should  consider  how  we  are 
related  to  the  Deity,  and  in  what  part  of  our  being,  and  in 
what  condition  of  that  part. 

Nothing  can  be  more  unhappy  than  the  curiosity  of  that 
man  that  ranges  everywhere,  and  digs  into  the  earth,  as  the 
poet  says,  for  discovery;  that  is  wonderfully  busy  to  force 
by  conjecture  a  passage  into  other  people's  thoughts,  but  does 
not  consider  that  it  is  sufficient  to  reverence  and  serve  the 
divinity  within  himself.  And  this  service  consists  in  this, 
that  a  man  keep  himself  pure  from  all  violent  passion,  and 
evil  affection,  from  all  rashness  and  vanity,  and  from  all 


MARCUS  AURELIUS  213 

manner  of  discontent  towards  gods  or  men.  For  as  for  the 
gods,  their  administration  ought  to  be  revered  upon  the  score 
of  excellency;  and  as  for  men,  their  actions  should  be  well 
taken  for  the  sake  of  common  kindred.  Besides,  they  are 
often  to  be  pitied  for  their  ignorance  of  good  and  evil ;  which 
incapacity  of  discerning  between  moral  qualities  is  no  less  a 
defect  than  that  of  a  blind  man,  who  cannot  distinguish  be- 
tween white  and  black. 

Though  you  were  to  live  three  thousand,  or,  if  you  please, 
thirty  thousand  of  years,  yet  remember  that  no  man  can  lose 
any  other  life  than  that  which  he  now  lives,  neither  is  he  pos- 
sessed of  any  other  than  that  which  he  loses.  Whence  it  fol- 
lows that  the  longest  life,  as  we  commonly  speak,  and  the 
shortest,  come  all  to  the  same  reckoning.  For  the  present  is  of 
the  same  duration  everywhere.  Everybody's  loss,  therefore,  is 
of  the  same  bigness  and  reaches  no  further  than  to  a  point  of 
time,  for  no  man  is  capable  of  losing  either  the  past  or  the 
future ;  for  how  can  one  be  deprived  of  what  he  has  not  ?  So 
that  under  this  consideration  there  are  two  notions  worth  re- 
membering. One  is,  that  Nature  treads  in  a  circle^  and  has 
much  the  same  face  through  the  whole  course  of  eternity. 
And  therefore  it  signifies  not  at  all  whether  a  man  stands 
gazing  here  an  hundred,  or  two  hundred,  or  an  infinity  of 
years ;  for  all  that  he  gets  by  it  is  only  to  see  the  same  sights 
so  much  the  oftener.  The  other  hint  is,  that  when  the  long- 
est and  shortest-lived  persons  come  to  die,  their  loss  is  equal ; 
they  can  but  lose  the  present  as  being  the  only  thing  they 
have ;  for  that  which  he  has  not,  no  man  can  be  truly  said  to 
lose. 

Moninnis,  th'e  Cynic  philosopher,  used  to  say  that  all  things 
were  but  opinion.  Now  this  saying  may  undoubtedly  prove 
serviceable,  provided  one  accepts  it  only  as  far  as  it  is  true. 

There  are  several  different  ways  by  which  a  man's  soul 
may  do  violence  to  itself;  first  of  all,  when  it  becomes  an 
abscess,  and,  as  it  were,  an  excrescence  on  the  universe,  as  far 
as  in  it  lies.  For  to  be  vexed  at  anything  that  happens  is  a 
separation  of  ourselves  from  nature,  in  some  part  of  which 
the  natures  of  all  other  things  are  contained.  Secondly,  it 
falls  under  the  same  misfortune  when  it  hates  any  person,  or 
goes  against  him,  with  an  intention  of  mischief,  which  is  the 


2U  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

case  of  the  angry  and  revengeful.  Thirdly,  it  wrongs  itself 
when  it  is  overcome  by  pleasure  or  pain.  Fourthly,  when  it 
makes  use  of  art,  tricking,  and  falsehood,  in  word  or  action. 
Fifthly,  when  it  does  not  know  what  it  would  be  at  in  a  busi- 
ness, but  runs  on  without  thought  or  design,  whereas  even  the 
least  undertaking  ought  to  be  aimed  at  some  end.  Now  the 
end  of  rational  beings  is  to  be  governed  by  the  law  and  reason 
of  the  most  venerable  city  and  constitution. 

The  extent  of  human  life  is  but  a  point ;  its  substance  is  in 
perpetual  flux,  its  perceptions  dim,  and  the  whole  composition 
of  the  body  tending  to  corruption.  The  soul  is  but  a  whirl, 
fortune  not  to  be  guessed  at,  and  fame  undiscerning — in  a 
word,  that  which  belongs  to  the  body  is  a  flowing  river,  and 
what  the  soul  has  is  but  dream  and  bubble.  Life  is  but  a 
campaign,  or  course  of  travels,  and  after-fame  is  oblivion. 
"What  is  it,  then,  that  will  stick  by  a  man  ?  Why,  nothing  but 
philosophy.  Now,  this  consists  in  keeping  the  divinity  within 
us  from  injury  and  disgrace,  superior  to  pleasure  and  pain, 
doing  nothing  at  random,  without  any  dissembling  and  pre- 
tense, and  independent  of  the  motions  of  another.  Farther, 
philosophy  brings  the  mind  to  take  things  as  they  fall,  and 
acquiesce  in  their  distribution,  inasmuch  as  all  events  proceed 
from  the  same  cause  with  itself;  and,  above  all,  to  have  an 
easy  prospect  of  death,  as  being  nothing  more  than  a  dis- 
solving of  the  elements  of  which  each  thing  is  composed. 
Now,  if  the  elements  themselves  are  never  the  worse  for 
running  off  one  into  another,  what  if  they  should  all  change 
and  be  dissolved  ?  Why  should  any  man  be  concerned  at  the 
consequence?  All  this  is  but  Nature's  method;  now,  Nature 
never  does  any  mischief. 

Written  at  Carnuntum. 

BOOK  III 

WE  ought  not  only  to  remember  that  life  is  wearing  off,  and 
a  smaller  part  of  it  is  left  daily,  but  also  to  consider  that 
if  a  man's  life  should  happen  to  be  longer  than  ordinary,  yet 
it  is  uncertain  whether  his  mind  will  keep  pace  w7ith  his 
years,  and  afford  him  sense  enough  for  business,  and  power 
to  contemplate  things  human  and  divine.  For  if  the  man 
begins  to  dote,  it  is  true  the  mere  animal  life  goes  on ;  he  may 


MARCUS  AURELIUS  215 

breathe,  and  be  nourished,  and  be  furnished  with  imagination 
and  appetite ;  but  to  make  any  proper  use  of  himself,  to  fill  up 
the  measure  of  his  duty,  to  distinguish  appearances,  and  to 
know  whether  it  is  time  for  him  to  walk  out  of  the  world  or 
not — as  to  all  such  noble  functions  of  reason  and  judgment, 
the  man  is  perfectly  dead  already.  It  concerns  us,  therefore, 
to  push  forward,  and  make  the  most  of  our  matters,  for  death 
Is  continually  advancing;  and  besides  that,  our  understanding 
sometimes  dies  before  us. 

It  is  worth  while  to  observe  that  the  least  thing  that  hap- 
pens naturally  to  things  natural  has  something  in  itself  that  is 
pleasing  and  delightful.  Thus,  for  example,  there  are  cracks 
and  little  breaks  on  the  surface  of  a  loaf,  which,  though  never 
intended  by  the  baker,  have  a  sort  of  agreeableness  in  them, 
which  invites  the  appetite.  Thus  figs,  when  they  are  most 
ripe,  open  and  gape ;  and  olives,  when  they  fall  of  themselves 
and  are  near  decaying,  are  particularly  pretty  to  look  at. 
The  bending  of  an  ear  of  corn,  the  brow  of  a  lion,  the  foam 
of  a  boar,  and  many  other  things,  if  you  take  them  singly,  are 
far  enough  from  being  beautiful ;  but  when  they  are  looked  on 
as  effects  of  the  products  of  Nature,  help  to  adorn  and  attract. 
Thus,  if  a  man  has  but  inclination  and  thought  enough  to 
examine  the  product  of  the  universe,  he  will  find  the  most  un- 
promising appearances  in  the  results  of  Nature  not  without 
charm,  and  that  the  more  remote  appendages  have  somewhat 
to  recommend  them.  One  thus  prepared  will  be  no  less 
pleased  to  see  the  gaping  jaws  of  living  beasts  than  the  imita- 
tions of  painters  and  sculptors,  and  with  chastened  eyes  he 
will  find  beauty  in  the  ripeness  of  age  as  well  as  in  the  blos- 
som of  youth.  I  grant  many  of  these  things  will  not  charm 
every  one,  but  only  those  who  are  truly  in  harmony  with 
Nature  and  her  works. 

Hippocrates,  who  cured  so  many  diseases,  himself  fell  ill 
and  died.  The  Chaldeans,  who  foretold  other  people 's  death, 
at  last  met  with  their  own  fate.  Alexander,  Pompey,  and 
Julius  Cassar,  who  had  destroyed  so  many  towns,  and  cut  off 
so  many  thousands  of  horse  and  foot  in  the  field,  were  forced 
at  last  to  march  off  themselves.  Heraclitus,  who  argued  so 
much  about  the  universal  conflagration,  died  through  water 
by  a  dropsy.  Democritus  was  eaten  up  with  vermin ;  another 


216  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

sort  of  vermin  destroyed  Socrates.  What  are  these  instances 
for?  Look  you:  you  have  embarked,  you  have  made  your 
voyage  and  your  port;  debark  then  without  more  ado.  If 
you  happen  to  land  upon  another  world,  there  will  be  gods 
enough  to  take  care  of  you ;  but  if  it  be  your  fortune  to  drop 
into  nothing,  why,  then  you  will  be  no  more  solicited  with 
pleasure  and  pain.  Then  you  will  have  done  drudging  for 
your  outer  covering,  which  is  the  more  unworthy  in  propor- 
tion as  that  which  serves  it  is  worthy;  for  the  one  is  all  soul, 
intelligence,  and  divinity,  whereas  the  other  is  but  dirt  and 
corruption. 

For  the  future,  do  not  spend  your  thoughts  upon  other 
people,  unless  you  are  led  to  it  by  common  interest.  For  the 
prying  into  foreign  business — that  is,  musing  upon  the  talk, 
fancies,  and  contrivances  of  another,  and  guessing  at  the 
what  and  why  of  his  actions — does  but  make  a  man  forget 
himself,  and  ramble  from  his  own  guiding  principle.  He 
ought,  therefore,  not  to  work  his  mind  to  no  purpose,  nor 
throw  a  superfluous  link  into  the  chain  of  thought ;  and  more 
especially,  to  avoid  curiosity  and  malice  in  his  inquiry.  Ac- 
custom yourself,  therefore,  to  think  upon  nothing  but  what 
you  could  freely  reveal,  if  the  question  were  put  to  you ;  so 
that  if  your  soul  were  thus  laid  open,  there  would  nothing 
appear  but  what  was  sincere,  good-natured,  and  public-spir- 
ited— not  so  much  as  one  voluptuous  or  luxurious  fancy, 
nothing  of  hatred,  envy,  or  unreasonable  suspicion,  nor  aught 
else  which  you  could  not  bring  to  the  light  without  blushing. 
A  man  thus  qualified,  who  does  not  delay  to  assume  the  first 
rank  among  mortals,  is  a  sort  of  priest  and  minister  of  the 
gods,  and  makes  a  right  use  of  the  Deity  within  him.  By 
the  assistance  thereof,  he  is  preserved,  uninfected  with  pleas- 
ure, invulnerable  against  pain — out  of  the  reach  of  injury, 
and  above  the  malice  of  evil  people.  Thus  he  wrestles  in 
the  noblest  fight,  to  hold  his  own  against  all  his  passions; 
and  penetrated  with  the  spirit  of  justice,  welcomes  with  his 
whole  heart  all  that  happens  and  is  allotted  to  him.  He  never 
minds  other  people's  speech,  thoughts,  or  actions,  unless  pub- 
lic necessity  and  general  good  require  it.  No;  he  keeps  him- 
self to  his  own  business,  and  contemplates  that  portion  of  the 
whole  allotted  him  by  the  fates,  and  endeavors  to  do  the  first 


MARCUS  AURELIUS  217 

as  it  should  be,  and  believes  that  his  lot  is  good.  For  every 
man's  fate  is  suitable,  since  it  is  suited  to  him.  He  considers 
that  the  rational  principle  is  akin  in  all  men,  and  that  general 
kindness  and  concern  for  the  whole  world  is  no  more  than  a 
piece  of  human  nature — that  not  every  one's  good  opinion  is 
not  worth  the  gaining,  but  only  that  of  those  who  seek  to  live 
in  accordance  with  Nature.  As  for  others,  he  knows  their 
way  of  living,  both  at  home  and  abroad,  by  day  and  by  night, 
and  their  companions  in  their  evil  way  of  life,  and  he  bears  it 
in  mind.  And,  why,  indeed,  should  he  value  the  commenda- 
tion of  such  people,  who  are  not  able  even  to  please  them- 
selves ? 

Be  not  unwilling,  selfish,  unadvised,  or  passionate  in  any- 
thing you  do.  Do  not  affect  quaintness  and  points  of  wit: 
neither  talk  nor  meddle  more  than  is  necessary.  Take  care 
that  the  divinity  within  you  has  a  creditable  charge  to  preside 
over ;  that  you  appear  in  the  character  of  your  sex  and  age. 
Act  like  a  Roman  Emperor  that  loves  his  country,  and  be  al- 
ways in  a  readiness  to  quit  the  field  at  the  first  summons ;  and 
ere  you  claim  your  discharge,  manage  your  credit  so,  that  you 
need  neither  swear  yourself  nor  want  a  voucher.  Let  your 
air  be  cheerful ;  depend  not  upon  external  supports,  nor  beg 
your  tranquillity  of  another.  And,  in  a  word,  never  throw 
away  your  legs,  to  stand  upon  crutches. 

If,  in  the  whole  compass  of  human  life,  you  find  anything 
preferable  to  justice  and  truth ;  to  temperance  and  fortitude ; 
to  a  mind  self-satisfied  with  its  own  rational  conduct,  and  en- 
tirely resigned  to  fate — if,  I  say,  you  know  anything  better 
than  this,  turn  to  it  with  your  whole  soul,  and  enjoy  it,  ac- 
counting it  the  best.  But  if  there  is  nothing  more  valuable 
than  the  divinity  implanted  within  you,  and  this  is  master  of 
its  appetites,  examines  all  impressions,  and  has  detached  it- 
self from  the  senses,  as  Socrates  used  to  say,  and  shows  itself 
submissive  to  the  government  of  the  gods,  and  helpful  and 
benevolent  to  mankind — if  all  things  are  trifles  compared  with 
this,  give  way  to  nothing  else.  For  if  you  are  once  inclined 
to  any  such  thing,  it  will  no  longer  be  in  your  power  to  give 
your  undivided  preference  to  what  is  your  own  peculiar  good, 
for  it  is  not  lawful  that  anything  of  another  kind  or  nature, 
as  either  popular  applause,  or  power,  or  riches,  or  pleasures, 


218  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

should  be  suffered  to  contest  with  what  is  rationally  and 
politically  good.  All  these  things,  if  but  for  a  while  they  be- 
gin to  please,  presently  prevail,  and  pervert  a  man's  mind. 
Let  your  choice  therefore  run  all  one  way,  and  be  bold  and 
resolute  for  that  which  is  best.  Now  what  is  profitable  is 
best.  If  that  means  profitable  to  man  as  he  is  a  rational 
being,  stand  to  it ;  but  if  it  means  profitable  to  him  as  a  mere 
animal,  reject  it,  and  keep  your  judgment  without  arrogance. 
Only  take  care  to  make  inquiry  secure. 

Think  nothing  for  your  interest  which  makes  you  break 
your  word,  quit  your  modesty,  hate,  suspect,  or  curse  any 
person,  or  inclines  you  to  any  practice  which  will  not  bear  the 
light  and  look  the  world  in  the  face.  For  he  that  values  his 
mind  and  the  worship  of  his  divinity  before  all  other  things, 
need  act  no  tragic  part,  laments  under  no  misfortune,  and 
wants  neither  solitude  nor  company;  and,  which  is  still  more, 
he  will  neither  fly  from  life  nor  pursue  it,  but  is  perfectly  in- 
different about  the  length  or  shortness  of  the  time  in  which 
his  soul  shall  be  encompassed  by  his  body.  And  if  he  were  to 
expire  this  moment,  he  is  as  ready  for  it  as  for  any  other  ac- 
tion that  may  be  performed  with  modesty  and  decency.  For 
all  his  life  long  this  is  his  only  care — that  his  mind  may  al- 
ways be  occupied  as  befits  a  rational  and  social  creature. 

If  you  examine  a  man  that  has  been  well-disciplined  and 
purified  by  philosophy,  you  will  find  nothing  that  is  unsound, 
foul,  or  false  in  him.  Death  can  never  surprise  his  life  as 
imperfect,  so  that  nobody  can  say  he  goes  off  the  stage  before 
his  part  is  quite  played.  Besides,  there  is  in  him  nothing 
servile  or  affected ;  he  neither  attaches  himself  too  closely  to 
others,  nor  keeps  aloof  from  them ;  he  is  neither  responsible 
to  them,  nor  does  he  avoid  them. 

Hold  in  honor  your  opinionative  faculty,  for  this  alone 
i.i  able  to  prevent  any  opinion  from  originating  in  your  guid- 
ing principle  that  is  contrary  to  Nature  or  the  proper  constitu- 
tion of  a  rational  creature.  Now,  a  rational  constitution  en- 
J.:i:s  us  to  do  nothing  rashly,  and  to  be  kindly  disposed 
tjy/anls  men,  and  to  submit  willingly  to  the  gods. 

As  for  other  speculations,  throw  them  all  out  of  your 
h^arl,  excepting  those  few  precepts  above  mentioned — remem- 
bering withal,  that  every  man's  life  lies  all  within  the  present, 


MARCUS  AURELIUS  219 

which  is  but  a  point  of  time ;  for  the  past  is  spent,  and  the 
future  is  uncertain.  Life  moves  in  a  very  narrow  compass; 
yes,  and  men  live  in  a  small  corner  of  the  world  too.  And 
the  most  lasting  fame  will  stretch  but  to  a  sorry  extent;  for, 
alas!  poor  transitory  mortals  who  hand  it  down  know  little 
even  of  themselves,  much  less  of  those  who  died  long  before 
their  time. 

To  the  foregoing  hints  you  may  add  this  which  follows: — 
make  for  yourself  a  particular  description  and  definition  of 
every  object  that  presents  itself  to  your  mind,  that  you  may 
thoroughly  contemplate  it  in  its  own  nature,  bare  and  naked, 
wholly  and  separately.  And  in  your  own  mind  call  itself  and 
the  parts  of  which  it  is  composed,  and  into  which  it  will  be 
resolved,  by  its  own  and  proper  name ;  for  nothing  is  so  likely 
to  raise  the  mind  to  a  pitch  of  greatness  as  the  power  truly 
and  methodically  to  examine  and  consider  all  things  that  hap- 
pen in  this  life,  and  so  to  penetrate  into  their  natures  as  to 
apprehend  at  once  what  sort  of  purpose  each  thing  serves,  and 
what  sort  of  universe  makes  use  of  it — what  value  it  bears 
to  the  whole,  and  what  to  man,  who  is  a  citizen  of  that  great 
capital,  in  respect  of  which  all  other  towns  are  no  more  than 
single  families — what  is  this  object  which  makes  an  impres- 
sion on  me ;  how  long  can  it  last ;  what  virtue  does  it  require 
of  me;  is  it  good-nature,  fortitude,  truth,  simplicity,  self- 
sufficiency,  or  any  of  the  rest?  On  each  occasion  a  man 
should  be  ready  to  pronounce,  "This  was  sent  me  by  heaven, 
this  by  destiny,  or  the  combinations  of  fate,  or  by  one  of  the 
same  clan,  or  family,  or  company  as  myself,  who  knows  not 
what  is  natural  for  him.  But  I  do  know ;  therefore  I  am  just 
and  friendly  to  him,  and  treat  him  according  to  the  natural 
laws  of  our  communion.  However,  in  things  indifferent  I 
take  care  to  rate  them  according  to  their  respective  value." 

If  you  will  be  governed  by  reason,  and  manage  what  lies 
before  you  with  industry,  vigor,  and  temper ;  if  you  will  not 
run  out  after  new  distraction,  but  keep  your  divinity  pure, 
even  as  though  you  must  at  once  render  it  up  again,  your 
mind  staunch  and  well  disciplined,  as  if  this  trial  of  behavior 
were  your  last ;  and,  if  you  will  but  cleave  to  this,  and  be  true 
to  the  best  of  yourself,  fearing  and  desiring  nothing,  but 
living  up  to  your  nature,  standing  boldly  by  the  truth  of  your 


220  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

word,  and  satisfied  therewith,  then  you  will  be  a  happy  man. 
But  the  whole  world  cannot  hinder  you  from  so  doing. 

As  surgeons  always  have  their  instruments  and  knives 
ready  for  sudden  occasions,  so  be  you  always  furnished  with 
rules  and  principles  to  let  you  into  the  knowledge  of  things 
human  and  divine,  remembering  even  in  your  slightest  action 
the  connection  these  two  have  with  each  other.  For  without 
a  regard  for  things  divine,  you  will  fail  in  your  behavior  to- 
wards men ;  and  again,  the  reasoning  holds  for  the  other  side 
of  the  argument. 

Wander  at  random  no  longer.  Alas!  you  have  no  time 
left  to  peruse  your  diary,  to  read  over  the  Greek  and  Roman 
history,  or  so  much  as  your  own  commonplace  book,  which 
you  collected  to  serve  you  when  you  were  old.  Hasten  then 
towards  the  goal.  Do  not  flatter  and  deceive  yourself.  Come 
to  your  own  aid  while  yet  you  may,  if  you  have  a  kindness  for 
yourself. 

Men  do  not  know  in  how  many  senses  they  can  take  the 
words  to  steal,  to  buy,  to  sow,  to  be  quiet,  to  see  what  should 
be  done ;  for  this  is  not  effected  by  eyes,  but  by  another  kind 
of  vision. 

There  are  three  things  which  belong  to  a  man — body, 
soul,  and  mind.  Sensation  belongs  to  the  body,  impulse  to 
the  soul,  and  reason  to  the  mind.  To  have  the  senses  stamped 
with  the  impression  of  an  object  is  common  to  brutes  and 
cattle ;  to  be  hurried  and  convulsed  with  passion  is  the  quality 
of  beasts  of  prey  and  men  of  pleasure — such  as  Phalaris  and 
Nero — of  atheists  and  traitors,  too,  and  of  those  who  do  not 
care  what  they  do  when  no  man  sees  them.  Now,  since  these 
qualities  are  common,  let  us  find  out  the  mark  of  a  man  of 
probity.  His  distinction,  then,  lies  in  letting  reason  guide 
his  practice,  in  contentment  with  all  that  is  allotted  him,  keep- 
ing pure  the  divinity  within  him,  untroubled  by  a  crowd  of 
appearances,  preserving  it  tranquil,  and  obeying  it  as  a  god. 
He  is  all  truth  in  his  words  and  justice  in  his  actions ;  and  if 
the  whole  world  should  disbelieve  his  integrity,  dispute  his 
character,  and  question  his  happiness,  he  would  neither  take  it 
ill  in  the  least,  nor  turn  aside  from  that  path  that  leads  to  the 
aim  of  life,  towards  which  he  must  move  pure,  calm,  well- 
prepared,  and  with  perfect  resignation  in  his  fata 


MARCUS  AURELIUS 


BOOK   IV 

WHEN  the  mind  acts  up  to  Nature,  she  is  rightly  disposed, 
and  takes  things  as  they  come,  and  tacks  about  with  her  cir- 
cumstances; as  for  fixing  the  condition  of  her  activity,  she 
is  not  at  all  solicitous  about  that.  It  is  true,  she  is  not  per- 
fectly indifferent ;  she  moves  forward  with  a  preference  in 
her  choice ;  but  if  anything  comes  cross,  she  falls  to  work 
upon  it,  and  like  fire  converts  it  into  fuel;  for  like  this  ele- 
ment, when  it  is  weak,  it  is  easily  put  out,  but  when  once 
well  kindled  it  seizes  upon  what  is  heaped  upon  it,  subdues 
it  into  its  own  nature,  and  increases  by  resistance. 

Let  every  action  tend  to  some  point,  and  be  perfect  in 
its  kind. 

It  is  the  custom  of  people  to  go  to  unfrequented  places 
and  country  places  and  the  seashore  and  the  mountains  for 
retirement;  and  this  you  often  earnestly  desired.  But,  after 
all,  this  is  but  a  vulgar  fancy,  for  it  is  in  your  power  to  with- 
draw into  yourself  whenever  you  desire.  Now  one's  own 
mind  is  a  place  the  most  free  from  crowd  and  noise  in  the 
world,  if  a  man's  thoughts  are  such  as  to  insure  him  perfect 
tranquillity  within,  and  this  tranquillity  consists  in  the  good 
ordering  of  the  mind.  Your  way  is,  therefore,  to  make  fre- 
quent use  of  this  retirement,  and  refresh  your  virtue  in  it. 
And  to  this  end,  be  always  provided  with  a  few  short,  un- 
contested  notions,  to  keep  your  understanding  true,  and  send 
you  back  content  with  the  business  to  which  you  return. 
For  instance:  What  is  it  that  troubles  you?  It  is  the 
wickedness  of  the  world.  If  this  be  your  case,  out  with  your 
antidote,  and  consider  that  rational  beings  were  made  for 
mutual  advantage,  that  forbearance  is  one  part  of  justice, 
and  that  people  misbehave  themselves  against  their  will. 
Consider,  likewise,  how  many  men  have  embroiled  them- 
selves, and  spent  their  days  in  disputes,  suspicion,  and  ani- 
mosities; and  now  they  are  dead,  and  burned  to  ashes.  Be 
quiet,  then,  and  disturb  yourself  no  more.  But,  it  may  be. 
the  distribution  of  the  world  does  not  please  you.  Recall 
the  alternative,  and  argue  thus:  either  Providence  or  atoms 
rule  the  universe.  Besides,  you  may  recall  the  proofs  that  the 
world  is,  as  it  were,  one  great  city  and  corporation.  But 


222 

possibly  the  ill  state  of  your  health  afflicts  you.  Pray  reflect, 
your  intellect  is  not  affected  by  the  roughness  or  smoothness 
of  the  currents  of  sensation,  if  she  will  retire  and  take  a 
view  of  her  own  privilege  and  power.  And  when  she  has 
done  this,  recollect  the  philosophy  about  pleasure  and  pain, 
to  which  you  have  even  now  listened  and  assented.  Well! 
it  may  be  the  concern  of  fame  sits  hard  upon  you.  If  you  are 
pinched  here,  consider  how  quickly  all  things  vanish,  and  are 
forgotten — what  an  immense  chaos  there  stands  on  either  side 
of  eternity.  Applause!  consider  the  emptiness  of  the  sound, 
the  precarious  tenure,  the  little  judgment  of  those  that  give 
it  us,  and  the  narrow  compass  it  is  confined  to;  for  the  whole 
globe  is  but  a  point ;  and  of  this  little,  how  small  is  your 
habitation,  and  how  insignificant  the  number  and  quality  of 
your  admirers.  Upon  the  whole,  do  not  forget  to  retire  into 
the  little  realm  of  your  own.  And,  above  all  things,  let  there 
be  no  straining  nor  struggling  in  the  case,  but  move  freely, 
and  contemplate  matters  like  a  human  being,  a  citizen,  and 
a  mortal.  And  among  the  rest  of  your  stock,  let  these  two 
maxims  be  always  ready:  first,  that  things  cannot  disturb 
the  soul,  but  remain  motionless  without,  while  disturbance 
springs  from  the  opinion  within  the  soul.  The  second  is, 
to  consider  that  the  scene  is  just  shifting  and  sliding  off 
into  nothing;  and  that  you  yourself  have  seen  abundance  of 
great  alterations.  In  a  word,  the  world  is  all  transformation, 
and  life  is  opinion. 

If  the  faculty  of  understanding  lies  in  common  amongst 
us  all,  then  reason,  the  cause  of  it,  must  be  common  too;  and 
that  other  reason  too  which  governs  practice  by  commands 
and  prohibitions.  From  whence  we  may  conclude,  that  man- 
kind are  under  one  common  law;  and  if  so,  they  must  be 
fellow-citizens,  and  belong  to  some  body  politic.  From 
whence  it  will  follow,  that  the  whole  world  is  but  one  com- 
monwealth ;  for  certainly  there  is  no  other  society  in  which 
mankind  can  be  incorporated.  Now  this  common  fund  of 
understanding,  reason,  and  law  is  a  commodity  of  this  same 
country,  or  which  way  do  mortals  light  on  it?  For  as  the 
four  distinctions  in  my  body  belong  to  some  general  head 
and  species  of  matter;  for  instance,  the  earthy  part  in  me 
comes  from  the  division  of  earth ;  the  watery  belongs  to  an- 


MARCUS  AURELIUS  223 

other  element;  the  airy  particles  flow  from  a  third  spring, 
and  those  of  fire  from  one  distinct  from  all  the  former  (for 
nothing  can  no  more  produce  something,  than  something 
can  sink  into  nothing)  ;  thus  it  is  evident  that  our  understand- 
ing must  proceed  from  some  source  or  other. 

Death  and  generation  are  hoth  mysteries  of  nature,  and 
somewhat  resemble  each  other;  for  the  first  does  but  dissolve 
those  elements  the  latter  had  combined.  Now  there  is  noth- 
ing that  a  man  need  be  ashamed  of  in  all  this ;  nothing  that 
is  opposed  to  his  nature  as  a  rational  being,  and  to  the  design 
of  his  constitution. 

Practices  and  dispositions ' are  generally  of  a  piece;  such 
usage  from  such  sort  of  men  is  in  a  manner  necessary.  To 
be  surprised  at  it,  is  in  effect  to  wonder  that  the  fig-tree 
yields  juice.  Pray  consider  that  both  you  and  your  enemy 
are  dropping  off,  and  that  ere  long  your  very  memories  will 
be  extinguished. 

Do  not  suppose  you  are  hurt,  and  your  complaint  ceases. 
Cease  your  complaint,  and  you  are  not  hurt. 

That  which  does  not  make  a  man  worse,  does  not  make 
his  life  worse;  and  by  consequence  he  has  no  harm  either 
within  or  without. 

The  nature  of  the  general  good  was  obliged  to  act  in  this 
manner. 

Take  notice  that  all  events  turn  out  justly,  and  that  if 
you  observe  nicely,  you  will  not  only  perceive  a  connection 
between  causes  and  effects,  but  a  sovereign  distribution  of 
justice,  which  presides  in  the  administration,  and  gives  every- 
thing its  due.  Observe,  then,  as  you  have  begun,  and  let 
all  your  actions  answer  the  character  of  a  good  man — I  mean 
a  good  man  in  the  strictness  and  notion  of  philosophy. 

If  a  man  affronts  you,  do  not  accept  his  opinion  or  think 
just  as  he  would  have  you  do.  No,  look  upon  things  as 
reality  presents  them. 

Be  always  provided  with  principles  for  these  two  purposes : 
— First,  To  engage  in  nothing  but  what  reason  dictates,  what 
the  sovereign  and  legislative  part  of  you  shall  suggest,  for 
the  interest  of  mankind.  Secondly,  To  be  disposed  to  quit 
your  opinion,  and  alter  your  measures,  when  a  friend  shall 
give  you  good  grounds  for  so  doing.  But  then  the  reasons  of 


224  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

changing  your  mind  ought  to  be  drawn  from  some  considera- 
tion regarding  justice  and  public  good,  or  some  such  generous 
motive,  and  not  because  it  pleases  your  fancy,  or  promotes 
your  reputation. 

Have  you  any  sense  in  your  head?  Yes.  Why  do  you 
not  make  use  of  it  then?  For  if  this  faculty  does  but  do  its 
part,  I  cannot  see  what  more  you  need  wish  for. 

At  present  your  nature  is  distinct ;  but  ere  long  you  will 
vanish  into  the  world.  Or,  rather,  you  will  be  returned  into 
that  universal  reason  which  gave  you  your  being. 

When  frankincense  is  thrown  upon  the  altar,  one  grain 
usually  falls  before  another;  but  it  makes  no  difference. 

Do  but  turn  to  the  principles  of  wisdom,  and  those  who 
take  you  now7  for  a  monkey  or  a  wild  beast,  will  make  a  god 
of  you  in  a  week's  time. 

Do  not  act  as  if  you  had  ten  thousand  years  to  throw 
away.  Death  stands  at  your  elbow.  Be  good  for  something, 
while  you  live  and  it  is  in  your  power. 

What  a  great  deal  of  time  and  ease  that  man  gains  who 
lets  his  neighbor's  words,  thoughts,  and  behavior  alone,  con- 
fines his  inspections  to  himself,  and  takes  care  that  his  own 
actions  are  honest  and  righteous.  "Truly,"  as  Agathon 
observes,  "we  should  not  wrander  thus,  but  run  straight  to 
the  goal  without  rambling  and  impertinence." 

He  that  is  so  very  solicitous  about  being  talked  of  when 
he  is  dead,  and  makes  his  memory  his  inclination,  does  not 
consider  that  all  who  knew  him  will  quickly  be  gone.  That 
his  fame  will  grow  less  in  the  next  generation,  and  flag  upon 
the  course;  and  handed  from  one  to  another  by  men  who 
eagerly  desire  it  themselves,  and  are  quenched  themselves, 
it  will  be  quenched  at  last;  but  granting  your  memory  and 
your  men  immortal,  what  is  their  panegyric  to  you  ?  I  do  not 
say,  when  you  are  dead,  but  if  you  were  living,  what  would 
commendation  signify,  unless  for  some  reason  of  utility?  To 
conclude;  if  you  depend  thus  servilely  upon  the  good  word 
of  other  people,  you  will  be  unworthy  of  your  nature. 

Whatever  is  good  has  that  quality  from  itself;  it  is  fin- 
ished by  its  own  nature,  and  commendation  is  no  part  of  it. 
Why,  then,  a  thing  is  neither  better  nor  worse  for  being 
praised.  This  holds  concerning  things  which  are  called  good 


MARCUS  AURELIUS  223 

in  the  common  way  of  speaking,  as  the  products  of  nature 
and  art,-  what  do  you  think,  then,  of  that  which  deserves 
this  character  in  the  strictest  propriety?  It  wants  nothing 
foreign  to  complete  the  idea  any  more  than  law,  truth,  good 
nature,  and  sobriety.  Do  any  of  these  virtues  stand  in  need 
of  a  good  word,  or  are  they  the  worse  for  a  bad  one?  I 
hope  an  emerald  will  shine  nevertheless  for  a  man's  being 
silent  about  the  worth  of  it.  Neither  is  there  any  necessity 
of  praising  gold,  ivory,  purple,  a  lyre,  a  dagger,  a  little  flower, 
or  a  shrub. 

If  human  souls  have  a  being  after  death,  which  way  has 
the  air  made  room  for  them  from  all  eternity?  Pray,  how 
has  the  earth  been  capacious  enough  to  receive  all  the  bodies 
buried  in  it  ?  The  solution  of  this  latter  question  will  satisfy 
the  former.  For  as  a  corpse  after  some  continuance  by 
change  and  dissolution  makes  way  for  another,  so  when  a 
man  dies,  and  the  spirit  is  let  loose  into  the  air,  it  holds  out 
for  some  time,  after  which  it  is  changed,  diffused,  and  kin- 
dled in  flame,  or  else  absorbed  into  the  generative  principle 
of  the  universe.  And  thus  they  make  room  for  succession. 
And  this  may  serve  for  an  answer  upon  the  supposition  of 
the  soul's  surviving  the  body.  Besides,  we  are  only  to  con- 
sider the  vast  number  of  bodies  disposed  of  in  the  manner 
above  mentioned ;  but  what  an  infinite  number  are  every  day 
devoured  by  mankind,  and  other  living  creatures,  and  as  it 
were  buried  in  their  bodies.  And  yet  by  the  transmutation 
of  the  food  into  the  blood,  or  into  fire  and  air,  there  is  space 
enough.  And  now  which  way  can  a  man  investigate  the 
truth  ?  Why,  in  order  to  do  this,  he  must  divide  the  thing  in 
question  into  the  causal  and  material  elements. 

Do  not  run  riot;  keep  your  intention  honest,  and  your 
convictions  sure. 

"Whatever  is  agreeable  to  you,  O  Universe,  is  so  to  me 
too.  Nothing  is  early  or  late  for  me  that  is  seasonable  for 
you.  Everything  is  fruit  for  me  which  your  seasons  bring, 
oh  Nature.  From  you  all  things  proceed,  subsist  in  you,  and 
return  to  you.  And  if  the  poet  said,  "Dear  City  of  Cecrops, " 
may  we  not  also  say,  "Dear  City  of  God"? 

"If  you  would  live  at  your  ease,"  says  Democritus,  "man- 
age but  a  few  things."  I  think  it  had  been  better  if  he  had 

A.  \.  1—15 


226  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

said,  "Do  nothing  but  what  is  necessary;  and  what  becomes 
the  reason  of  a  social  being,  and  in  the  order  too  it  prescribes 
it."  For  by  this  rule  a  man  has  the  double  pleasure  of  mak- 
ing his  actions  good  and  few  into  the  bargain.  For  the 
greater  part  of  what  we  say  and  do,  being  unnecessary,  if 
this  were  but  once  retrenched,  we  should  have  both  more 
leisure  and  less  disturbance.  And  therefore  before  a  man  sets 
forward  he  should  ask  himself  this  question,  "Am  I  not  upon 
the  verge  of  something  unnecessary?"  Farther,  we  should 
apply  this  hint  to  what  we  think,  as  well  as  to  what  we 
do.  For  impertinence  of  thought  draws  unnecessary  action 
after  it. 

Make  an  experiment  upon  yourself,  and  examine  your 
proficiency  in  a  life  of  virtue.  Try  how  you  can  acquiesce 
in  your  fate,  and  whether  your  own  honesty  and  good  nature 
will  content  you. 

Have  you  seen  this  side?  Pray  view  the  other  too.  Never 
be  disturbed,  but  let  your  purpose  be  single.  Is  any  man 
guilty  of  a  fault?  It  is  to  himself  then.  Has  any  advantage 
happened  to  you  ?  It  is  the  bounty  of  fate.  It  was  all  of  it 
preordained  you  by  the  universal  cause,  and  woven  in  your 
destiny  from  the  beginning.  On  the  whole,  life  is  but  short, 
therefore  be  just  and  prudent,  and  make  the  most  of  it. 
And  when  you  divert  yourself,  be  always  upon  your  guard. 

The  world  is  either  the  effect  of  contrivance  or  chance; 
if  the  latter,  it  is  a  world  for  all  that,  that  is  to  say,  it  is  a 
regular  and  beautiful  structure.  Now  can  any  man  discover 
symmetry  in  his  own  shape,  and  yet  take  the  universe  for 
a  heap  of  disorder?  I  say  the  universe,  in  which  the  very 
discord  and  confusion  of  the  elements  settle  into  harmony 
and  order.1 

A  black  character,  an  effeminate  character,  an  obstinate 
character,  brutish,  savage,  childish,  silly,  false,  scurrilous, 
mercenary,  tyrannical. 

Not  to  know  what  is  in  the  world,  and  not  to  know  what 
is  done  in  the  world,  comes  much  to  the  same  thing,  and  a 
man  is  one  way  no  less  a  stranger  than  the'  other.  He  is 
no  better  than  a  deserter  that  flies  from  public  law.  He  is 
a  blind  man  that  shuts  the  eyes  of  his  understanding;  and 

1  The  Greek  word  for  Universe  and  Order  is  the  same — kosmos. 


MARCUS  AURELIUS  227 

he  is  a  beggar  that  is  not  furnished  at  home,  but  wants  the 
assistance  of  another.  He  that  frets  himself  because  things 
do  not  happen  just  as  he  would  have  them,  and  secedes  and 
separates  himself  from  the  law  of  universal  nature,  is  but 
a  sort  of  an  ulcer  of  the  world,  never  considering  that  the 
same  cause  which  produced  the  displeasing  accident  made 
him  too.  And  lastly,  he  that  is  selfish,  and  cuts  off  his  own 
soul  from  the  universal  soul  of  all  rational  beings,  is  a  kind 
of  voluntary  outlaw. 

This  philosopher  has  never  a  tunic  to  his  coat,  the  other 
never  a  book  to  read,  and  a  third  is  half  naked,  and  yet 
they  are  none  of  them  discouraged.  One  learned  man  says, 
"I  have  no  bread,  yet  I  abide  by  reason."  Another,  "I  have 
no  profit  of  my  learning,  yet  I  too  abide  by  reason." 

Be  satisfied  with  your  business,  and  learn  to  love  what 
you  were  bred  to;  and  as  to  the  remainder  of  your  life,  be 
entirely  resigned,  .and  let  the  gods  do  their  pleasure  with 
your  body  and  your  soul.  And  when  this  is  done,  be  neither 
slave  nor  tyrant  to  anybody. 

To  begin  somewhere,  consider  how  the  world  went  in 
Vespasian 's  time ;  consider  this,  I  say,  and  you  will  find  man- 
kind just  at  the  same  pass  they  are  now :  some  marrying  and 
some  concerned  in  education,  some  sick  and  some  dying,  some 
fighting  and  some  feasting,  some  drudging  at  the  plow  and 
some  upon  the  exchange ;  some  too  affable  and  some  over- 
grown with  conceit;  one  full  of  jealousy  and  the  other  of 
knavery.  Here  you  might  find  a  group  wishing  for  the  death 
of  their  friends,  and  there  a  seditious  club  complaining  of  the 
limes.  Some  were  lovers  and  some  misers,  some  grasped  at 
the  consulship  and  some  at  the  scepter.  Well!  all  is  over 
with  that  generation  long  since.  Come  forward  then  to  the 
reign  of  Trajan.  Now  here  you  will  find  the  same  thing,  but 
they  are  all  gone  too.  Go  on  with  the  contemplation,  and 
carry  it  to  other  times  and  countries,  and  here  you  will  see 
abundance  of  people  very  busy  with  their  projects,  who  are 
quickly  resolved  into  their  elements.  More  particularly 
recollect  those  within  your  own  memory,  who  have  been 
hurried  on  in  these  vain  pursuits ;  how  they  have  overlooked 
the  dignity  of  their  nature,  and  neglected  to  hold  fast  to  that, 
and  be  satisfied  with  it.  And  here  you  must  remember  to 


228  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

proportion  your  concern  to  the  weight  and  importance  of  each 
action.  Thus,  if  you  refrain  from  trifling,  you  may  part  with 
amusements  without  regret. 

Those  words  which  were  formerly  current  are  now  become 
obsolete.  Alas!  this  is  not  all;  fame  tarnishes  in  time  too, 
and  men  grow  out  of  fashion  as  well  as  language.  Those 
celebrated  names  of  Camillas,  Caeso,  Volesus,  and  Leonnatus 
are  antiquated.  Those  of  Scipio,  Cato,  and  Augustus  will 
soon  have  the  same  fortune,  and  those  of  Hadrian  and  Anto- 
ninus must  follow.  All  these  things  are  transitory,  and 
quickly  become  as  a  tale  that  is  told,  and  are  swallowed  up 
in  oblivion.  I  speak  this  of  those  who  have  been  the  wonder 
of  their  age  and  who  shone  with  unusual  luster.  But  as  for 
the  rest,  they  are  no  sooner  dead  than  forgotten.  And  after 
all,  what  does  fame  everlasting  mean?  Mere  vanity.  What 
then  is  it  that  is  worth  one's  while  to  be  concerned  for?  Why 
nothing  but  this :  to  bear  an  honest  mind,  to  act  for  the  good 
of  society,  to  deceive  nobody,  to  welcome  everything  that 
happens  as  necessary  and  familiar,  and  flowing  from  a  like 
source. 

Put  yourself  frankly  into  the  hands  of  fate,  and  let  her 
spin  you  out  what  fortune  she  pleases. 

He  that  does  a  memorable  action,  and  those  that  report 
it,  are  all  but  short-lived  things. 

Accustom  yourself  to  consider  that  whatever  is  produced, 
is  produced  by  alteration ;  that  nature  loves  nothing  so  much 
as  changing  existing  things,  and  producing  new  ones  like 
them.  For  that  which  exists  at  present  is,  as  it  were,  the 
seed  of  what  shall  spring  from  it.  But  if  you  take  seed  in  the 
common  notion,  and  confine  it  to  the  field  or  the  womb,  you 
have  a  dull  fancy. 

You  are  just  taking  leave  of  the  world,  and  yet  you  have 
not  done  with  unnecessary  desires.  Are  you  not  yet  above 
disturbance  and  suspicion,  and  fully  convinced  that  nothing 
without  can  hurt  you  ?  You  have  not  yet  learned  to  be  friends 
with  everybody,  and  that  to  be  an  honest  man  is  the  only 
way  to  be  a  wise  one. 

To  understand  the  true  quality  of  people,  you  must  look 
into  their  minds,  and  examine  their  pursuits  and  aversions. 

Your  pain  cannot  originate  in  another  man's  mind,  nor 


MARCUS  AURELIUS  229 

in  any  change  or  transformation  of  your  corporeal  covering. 
Where  then  does  it  lie  ?  Why,  in  that  part  of  yon  that  forms 
judgments  about  things  evil.  Do  not  imagine  you  are  hurt, 
and  you  are  impregnable.  Suppose  then  your  flesh  was 
hacked,  burnt,  putrefied,  or  mortified,  yet  let  that  part  that 
judges  keep  quiet ;  that  is,  do  not  conclude  that  what  is  com- 
mon to  good  or  ill  men  can  be  good  or  evil  in  itself.  For 
that  which  may  be  everybody's  lot,  must  in  its  own  nature 
be  indifferent. 

You  ought  frequently  to  consider  that  the  world  is  an 
animal,  consisting  of  one  soul  and  body,  that  an  universal 
sense  runs  through  the  whole  mass  of  matter.  You  should 
likewise  reflect  how  nature  acts  by  a  joint  effort,  and  how 
everything  contributes  to  the  being  of  everything:  and  lastly, 
what  connection  and  subordination  there  is  between  causes 
and  effects. 

Epictetus  will  tell  you  that  you  ar^  a  living  soul,  that 
drags  a  corpse  about  with  her. 

Things  that  subsist  upon  change,  and  owe  their  being  to 
instability,  can  neither  be  considerably  good  nor  bad. 

Time  is  like  a  rapid  river,  and  a  rushing  torrent  of  all  that 
comes  and  passes.  A  thing  is  no  sooner  well  come,  but  it  is 
past ;  and  then  another  is  borne  after  it,  and  this  too  will  be 
carried  away. 

Whatever  happens  is  as  common  and  well  known  as  a 
rose  in  the  spring,  or  an  apple  in  autumn.  Of  this  kind  are 
diseases  and  death,  calumny  and  trickery,  and  every  other 
thing  which  raises  and  depresses  the  spirits  of  unthinking 
people. 

Antecedents  and  consequents  are  dexterously  tied  together 
in  the  world.  Things  are  not  carelessly  thrown  on  a  heap, 
and  joined  more  by  number  than  nature,  but,  as  it  were, 
rationally  connected  with  each  other.  And  as  the  things 
that  exist  are  harmoniously  connected,  so  those  that  become 
exhibit  no  mere  succession,  but  an  harmonious  relationship. 

Do  not  forget  the  saying  of  Heraclitus,  "That  the  earth 
dies  into  water,  water  into  air,  air  into  fire,  and  so  back- 
ward." Remember  likewise  the  story  of  the  man  that  trav- 
eled on  without  knowing  to  what  place  the  way  would  bring 
him ;  and  that  many  people  quarrel  with  that  reason  that 


230  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

governs  the  world,  aud  with  which  they  are  daily  conversant, 
and  seem  perfectly  unacquainted  with  those  things  which 
occur  daily.  Farther,  we  must  not  nod  over  business — for 
even  in  sleep  we  seem  to  act, — neither  are  we  to  be  wholly 
governed  by  tradition ;  for  that  is  like  children,  who  believe 
anything  their  parents  tell  them. 

Put  the  case,  some  god  should  acquaint  you  you  were  to 
die  to-morrow,  or  next  day  at  farthest.  Under  this  warning, 
you  would  be  a  very  poor  wretch  if  you  should  strongly  solicit 
for  the  longest  time.  For,  alas!  how  inconsiderable  is  the 
difference?  In  like  manner,  if  you  would  reason  right,  you 
would  not  be  much  concerned  whether  your  life  were  to  end 
to-morrow  or  a  thousand  years  hence. 

Consider  how  many  physicians  are  dead  that  used  to  knit 
their  brows  over  their  patients;  how  many  astrologers  who 
thought  themselves  great  men  by  foretelling  the  death  of 
others;  how  many  philosophers  have  gone  the  way  of  all 
flesh,  after  all  their  learned  disputes  about  dying  and  immor- 
tality; how  many  warriors,  who  had  knocked  so  many  men's 
brains  out ;  how  many  tyrants,  who  managed  the  power  of 
life  and  death  with  as  much  insolence  as  if  they  had  been 
immortal ;  how  many  cities,  if  I  may  say  so,  have  given 
up  the  ghost :  for  instance,  Helice  in  Greece,  Pompeii  and 
Herculaneum  in  Italy;  not  to  mention  many  besides.  Do 
but  recollect  your  acquaintance,  and  here  you  will  find  one 
man  closing  another's  eyes,  then  he  himself  is  laid  out,  and 
this  one  by  another.  And  all  within  a  small  compass  of  time. 
In  short,  mankind  are  poor  transitory  things!  They  are  one 
day  in  the  rudiments  of  life  and  almost  the  next  turned  to 
mummy  or  ashes.  Your  way  is  therefore  to  manage  this 
minute  in  harmony  with  nature,  and  part  with  it  cheerfully ; 
and  like  a  ripe  olive  when  you  drop,  be  sure  to  speak  well 
of  the  mother  that  bore  you,  and  make  your  acknowledgments 
to  the  tree  that  produced  you. 

Stand  firm  like  a  rock,  against  which  though  the  waves 
batter,  yet  it  stands  unmoved,  and  they  fall  to  rest  at  last. 
How  unfortunate  has  this  accident  made  me,  cries  such  an 
one !  Not  at  all !  He  should  rather  say,  What  a  happy 
mortal  am  I  for  being  unconcerned  upon  this  occasion !  for 
being  neither  crushed  by  the  present,  nor  afraid  of  what  is 


MARCUS  AURELIUS  231 

to  come.  The  thing  might  have  happened  to  any  other  man 
as  well  as  myself ;  but  for  all  that,  everybody  would  not  have 
been  so  easy  under  it.  Why  then  is  not  the  good  fortune  of 
the  bearing  more  considerable  than  the  ill  fortune  of  the 
happening?  Or,  to  speak  properly,  how  can  that  be  a  mis- 
fortune to  a  man  which  does  not  frustrate  his  nature?  And 
how  can  that  cross  upon  a  man 's  nature  which  is  not  opposed 
to  the  intention  and  design  of  it?  Now  what  that  intention 
is,  you  know.  To  apply  this  reasoning :  does  the  present  acci- 
dent hinder  your  being  just,  magnanimous,  temperate  and 
modest,  judicious,  truthful,  reverent,  and  unservile?  Now, 
when  a  man  is  furnished  with  these  good  qualities,  his  nature 
has  what  she  would  have.  Farther,  when  everything  grows 
troublesome,  recollect  this  maxim:  This  accident  is  not  a 
misfortune,  but  bearing  it  well  turns  it  to  an  advantage. 

To  consider  those  old  people  that  resigned  life  so  un- 
willingly, is  a  common  yet  not  unserviceable  aid  in  facing 
death.  For  what  are  these  long-lived  mortals  more  than 
those  that  went  off  in  their  infancy?  "What  has  become  of 
Cadicianus,  Fabius,  Julianus,  and  Lepidus,  and  others  like 
them?  They  buried  a  great  many,  but  came  at  last  to  it 
themselves.  Upon  the  whole,  the  difference  between  long 
and  short  life  is  insignificant,  especially  if  you  consider  the 
accidents,  the  company,  and  the  body  you  must  go  through 
with.  Therefore  do  not  let  a  thought  of  this  kind  affect  you. 
Do  but  look  upon  the  astonishing  notion  of  time  and  eternity ; 
what  an  immense  deal  has  run  out  already,  and  how  infinite 
it  is  still  in  the  future.  Do  but  consider  this,  and  you  will 
find  three  days  and  three  ages  of  life  come  much  to  the  same 
thing. 

Always  go  the  shortest  way  to  work.  Now,  the  nearest 
road  to  your  business  is  the  road  of  nature.  Let  it  be  your 
constant  method,  then,  to  be  sound  in  word  and  in  deed,  and 
by  this  means  you  need  not  grow  fatigued,  you  need  not 
quarrel,  flourish  and  dissemble  like  other  people. 

BOOK  v 

WHEN  you  find  an  unwillingness  to  rise  early  in  the  morn- 
ing, make  this  short  speech  to  yourself :  I  am  getting  up  now 
to  do  the  business  of  a  man;  and  am  I  out  of  humor  for 


232  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

going  about  that  I  was  made  for,  and  for  the  sake  of  which 
I  was  sent  into  the  world  ?  Was  I  then  designed  for  nothing 
but  to  doze  and  keep  warm  beneath  the  counterpane  V  Well ! 
but  this  is  a  comfortable  way  of  living.  Granting  that:  were 
you  born  only  for  pleasure?  were  you  never  to  do  anything? 
Is  not  action  the  end  of  your  being?  Pray  look  upon  the 
plants  and  birds,  the  ants,  spiders,  and  bees,  and  you  will 
see  them  all  exerting  their  nature,  and  busy  in  their  station. 
Pray,  shall  not  a  man  act  like  a  man  ?  WTiy  do  you  not  rouse 
your  faculties,  and  hasten  to  act  according  to  your  nature? 
For  all  that,  there  is  no  living  without  rest.  True ;  but  nature 
has  fixed  a  limit  to  eating  and  drinking,  and  here,  too,  you 
generally  exceed  bounds,  and  go  beyond  what  is  sufficient. 
Whereas  in  business  you  are  apt  to  do  less  than  lies  in  your 
power.  In  earnest,  you  have  no  true  love  for  yourself.  If 
you  had,  you  would  love  your  nature  and  honor  her  wishes. 
Now,  when  a  man  loves  his  trade,  how  he  will  sweat  and 
drudge  to  perform  to  perfection.  But  you  honor  your  nature 
less  than  a  turner  does  the  art  of  turning,  a  dancing-master 
the  art  of  dancing.  And  as  for  wealth  and  popularity,  how 
eagerly  are  they  pursued  by  the  vain  and  the  covetous!  All 
these  people  when  they  greatly  desire  anything,  seek  to  attain 
it,  might  and  main,  and  will  scarcely  allow  themselves  neces- 
sary refreshment.  And  now,  can  you  think  the  exercise  of 
social  duties  less  valuable  than  these  petty  amusements,  and 
worth  less  exertion? 

What  an  easy  matter  it  is  to  stem  the  current  of  your 
imagination,  to  discharge  a  troublesome  or  improper  thought, 
and  at  once  return  to  a  state  of  calm. 

Do  not  think  any  word  or  action  beneath  you  which  is  in 
accordance  with  nature ;  and  never  be  misled  by  the  appre- 
hension of  censure  or  reproach.  Where  honesty  prompts  you 
to  say  or  do  anything  never  hold  it  beneath  you.  Other 
people  have  their  own  guiding  principles  and  impulses ;  mind 
them  not.  Go  on  in  the  straight  road,  pursue  your  own  and 
the  common  interest.  For  to  speak  strictly,  these  two  are 
approached  by  one  and  the  same  road. 

I  will  march  on  in  the  path  of  nature  till  my  legs  sink 
under  me,  and  then  I  shall  be  at  rest,  and  expire  into  that 
air  which  has  given  me  my  daily  breath ;  fall  upon  that  earth 


MARCUS  AURELIUS  233 

which  has  maintained  my  parents,  helped  my  nurse  to  her 
milk,  and  supplied  me  with  meat  and  drink  for  so  many 
years;  and  though  its  favors  have  been  often  abused,  still 
suffers  me  to  tread  upon  it. 

Wit  and  smartness  are  not  your  talent.  What  then  ?  There 
are  a  great  many  other  good  qualities  in  which  you  cannot 
pretend  nature  has  failed  you ;  improve  them  as  far  as  you 
can,  and  let  us  have  that  which  is  perfectly  in  your  power. 
You  may  if  you  please  behave  yourself  like  a  man  of  gravity 
and  good  faith,  endure  hardship,  and  despise  pleasure ;  want 
but  a  few  things,  and  complain  of  nothing ;  you  may  be  gentle 
and  magnanimous  if  you  please,  and  have  nothing  of  luxury 
or  trifling  in  your  disposition.  Do  not  you  see  how  much 
you  may  do  if  you  have  a  mind  to  it,  where  the  plea  of  in- 
capacity is  out  of  place?  And  yet  you  do  not  push  forward 
as  you  should  do.  What  then!  Does  any  natural  defect 
force  you  to  grumble,  to  lay  faults  upon  your  constitution, 
to  be  stingy  or  a  flatterer,  to  seek  after  popularity,  boast, 
and  be  disturbed  in  mind?  Can  you  say  you  are  so  weakly 
made  as  to  be  driven  to  these  practices?  The  immortal  gods 
know  the  contrary.  No,  you  might  have  stood  clear  of  all 
this  long  since;  and  after  all,  if  your  parts  were  somewhat 
slow,  and  your  understanding  heavy,  your  way  had  been  to 
have  taken  the  more  pains  with  yourself,  and  not  to  have 
lain  fallow  and  remained  content  with  your  own  dullness. 

Some  men,  when  they  do  you  a  kindness,  at  once  demand 
the  payment  of  gratitude  from  you ;  others  are  more  modest 
than  this.  However,  they  remember  the  favor,  and  look 
upon  you  in  a  manner  as  their  debtor.  A  third  sort  shall 
scarce  know  what  they  have  done.  These  are  much  like  a 
vine,  which  is  satisfied  by  being  fruitful  in  its  kind,  and  bears 
a  bunch  of  grapes  without  expecting  any  thanks  for  it.  A 
fleet  horse  or  greyhound  does  not  make  a  noise  when  they 
have  done  well,  nor  a  bee  neither  when  she  has  made  a  little 
honey.  And  thus  a  man  that  has  done  a  kindness  never  pro- 
claims it,  but.  does  another  as  soon  as  he  can,  just  like  a  vine 
that  bears  again  the  next  season.  Now  we  should  imitate 
those  who  are  so  obliging,  as  hardly  to  reflect  on  their  benefi- 
cence. But  you  will  say,  a  man  ought  not  to  act  without 
reflection.  It  is  surely  natural  for  one  that  is  generous  to  be 


234  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

conscious  of  his  generosity;  yes,  truly,  and  to  desire  the 
person  obliged  should  be  sensible  of  it  too.  What  you  say  is 
in  a  great  measure  true.  But  if  you  mistake  my  meaning, 
you  will  become  one  of  those  untoward  benefactors  I  first 
mentioned;  indeed,  they  too  are  misled  by  the  plausibility  of 
their  reasoning.  But  if  you  will  view  the  matter  in  its  true 
colors,  never  fear  that  you  will  neglect  any  social  act. 

A  prayer  of  the  Athenians,  "Send  down,  oh!  send  down 
rain,  dear  Zeus,  on  the  plowed  fields  and  plains  of  the 
Athenians."  Of  a  truth,  we  should  not  pray  at  all,  or  else 
in  this  simple  and  noble  fashion. 

^Esculapius,  as  we  commonly  say,  has  prescribed  such  an 
one  riding  out,  walking  in  his  slippers,  or  a  cold  bath.  Now, 
with  much  the  same  meaning  we  may  affirm  that  the  nature 
of  the  universe  has  ordered  this  or  that  person  a  disease,  loss 
of  limbs  or  estate,  or  some  such  other  calamity.  For  as  in 
the  first  case,  the  word  "prescribed"  signifies  a  direction  for 
the  health  of  the  patient,  so  in  the  latter  it  means  an  applica- 
tion fit  for  his  constitution  and  fate.  And  thus  these  harsher 
events  may  be  counted  fit  for  us,  as  stone  properly  joined 
together  in  a  wall  or  pyramid  is  said  by  the  workmen  to  fit 
in.  Indeed,  the  whole  of  nature  consists  of  harmony.  For  as 
the  world  has  its  form  and  entireness  from  that  universal 
matter  of  which  it  consists,  so  the  character  of  fate  results 
from  the  quality  and  concurrence  of  all  other  causes  con- 
tained in  it.  The  common  people  understand  this  notion  very 
well.  Their  way  of  speaking  is:  "This  happened  to  this 
man,  therefore  it  was  sent  him  and  appointed  for  him." 
Let  us  then  comply  with  our  doom,  as  we  do  with  the  pre- 
scriptions of  JEsculapius.  These  doses  are  often  unpalatable 
and  rugged,  and  yet  the  desire  of  health  makes  them  go 
merrily  down.  Now  that  which  nature  esteems  profit  and 
convenience,  should  seem  to  you  like  your  own  health.  And, 
therefore,  when  anything  adverse  happens,  take  it  quietly  to 
you ;  it  is  for  the  health  of  the  universe,  and  the  prosperity 
of  Zeus  himself.  Depend  upon  it,  this  had  never  been  sent 
you,  if  the  universe  had  not  found  its  advantage  in  it.  Neither 
does  nature  act  at  random,  or  order  anything  which  is  not 
suitable  to  those  beings  under  her  government.  You  have 
two  reasons,  therefore,  to  be  contented  with  your  condition. 


MARCUS  AURELIUS  235 

First,  because  it  has  befallen  you,  and  was  appointed  you 
from  the  beginning  by  the  highest  and  most  ancient  causes. 
Secondly,  The  lot  even  of  individuals  is  in  a  manner  destined 
for  the  interest  of  him  that  governs  the  world.  It  perfects 
his  nature  in  some  measure,  and  causes  and  continues  his 
happiness ;  for  it  holds  in  causes,  no  less  than  in  parts  of  a 
whole  that  if  you  lop  off  any  part  of  the  continuity  and  con- 
nection, you  maim  the  whole.  Now,  if  you  are  displeased 
with  your  circumstances,  you  dismember  nature,  and  pull  the 
world  in  pieces,  as  much  as  lies  in  your  power. 

Be  not  uneasy,  discouraged,  or  out  of  humor,  because 
practice  falls  short  of  precept  in  some  particulars.  If  you 
happen  to  be  beaten,  come  on  again,  and  be  glad  if  most  of 
your  acts  are  worthy  of  human  nature.  Love  that  to  which 
you  return,  and  do  not  go  like  a  schoolboy  to  his  master,  with 
an  ill  will.  No,  you  must  apply  to  philosophy  with  inclina- 
tion, as  those  who  have  sore  eyes  make  use  of  a  good  receipt. 
And  when  you  are  thus  disposed,  you  will  easily  acquiesce  in 
reason,  and  make  your  abode  with  her.  And  here  you  are 
to  remember  that  philosophy  will  put  you  upon  nothing  but 
wrhat  your  nature  wishes  and  calls  for.  But  you  are  crossing 
the  inclinations  of  your  nature.  Is  not  this  the  most  agree- 
able? And  does  not  pleasure  often  deceive  us  under  this 
pretense  ?  Now  think  a  little,  and  tell  me  what  is  there  more 
delightful  than  greatness  of  mind,  and  generosity,  simplicity, 
equanimity,  and  piety?  And  once  more,  what  can  be  more 
delightful  than  prudence?  than  to  be  furnished  with  that 
faculty  of  knowledge  and  understanding  which  keeps  a  man 
from  making  a  false  step,  and  helps  him  to  good  fortune  in 
all  his  business? 

Things  are  so  much  perplexed  and  in  the  dark  that  several 
great  philosophers  looked  upon  them  as  altogether  unintel- 
ligible, and  that  there  was  no  certain  test  for  the  discovery 
of  truth.  Even  the  Stoics  agree  that  certainty  is  very  hard 
to  come  at;  that  our  assent  is  worth  little,  for  where  is 
infallibility  to  be  found?  However,  our  ignorance  is  not  so 
great  but  that  we  may  discover  how  transitory  and  insignifi- 
cant all  things  are,  and  that  they  may  fall  into  the  worst 
hands.  Farther,  consider  the  temper  of  those  you  converse 
with,  and  you  will  find  the  best  will  hardly  do;  not  to  men- 


236  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

tion  that  a  man  has  work  enough  to  make  himself  tolerable 
to  himself.  And  since  we  have  nothing  but  darkness  and 
dirt  to  grasp  at,  since  time  and  matter,  motion  and  mortals 
are  in  perpetual  flux ;  for  these  reasons,  I  say,  I  cannot  imag- 
ine what  there  is  here  worth  the  minding  or  being  eager 
about.  On  the  other  hand,  a  man  ought  to  keep  up  his  spirits, 
for  it  will  not  be  long  before  his  discharge  comes.  In  the 
meantime,  he  must  not  fret  at  the  delay,  but  satisfy  himself 
with  these  two  considerations:  the  one  is,  that  nothing  will 
befall  me  but  what  is  in  accordance  with  the  nature  of  the 
universe ;  the  other,  that  I  need  do  nothing  contrary  to  my 
mind  and  divinity,  since  no  one  can  force  me  to  act  thus,  or 
force  me  to  act  against  my  own  judgment. 

What  use  do  I  put  my  soul  to?  It  is  a  serviceable  ques- 
tion this,  and  should  frequently  be  put  to  oneself.  How  does 
my  ruling  part  stand  affected  ?  And  whose  soul  have  I  now  ? 
That  of  a  child,  or  a  young  man,  or  a  feeble  woman,  or  of  a 
tyrant,  of  cattle  or  wild  beasts. 

What  sort  of  good  things  those  are,  which  are  commonly 
so  reckoned  on,  you  may  learn  from  hence.  For  the  purpose, 
if  you  reflect  upon  those  qualities  which  are  intrinsically  val- 
uable, such  as  prudence,  temperance,  justice,  and  fortitude, 
you  will  not  find  it  possible  afterwards  to  give  ear  to  those, 
for  this  is  not  suitable  to  a  good  man.  But  if  you  have  once 
conceived  as  good  what  appears  so  to  the  many,  you  will 
hear  and  gladly  accept  as  suitable  the  saying  of  the  comic 
writer.  Thus  we  see  the  generality  are  struck  with  the  dis- 
tinction, otherwise  they  would  not  dislike  the  liberty  in  one 
case,  and  allow  it  in  the  other,  holding  it  a  suitable  and  witty 
jest  when  it  is  directed  against  wealth,  and  the  means  that 
further  luxury  and  ambition.  Now,  what  significancy  and 
excellence  can  there  be  in  these  things,  to  which  may  be 
applied  the  poet's  jest,  that  excess  of  luxury  leaves  no  room 
for  comfort? 

My  being  consists  of  matter  and  form,  that  is,  of  soul 
and  body;  annihilation  will  reach  neither  of  them,  for  they 
were  never  produced  out  of  nothing.  The  consequence  is, 
that  every  part  of  me  will  serve  to  make  something  in  the 
world;  and  this  again  will  change  into  another  part  through 
an  infinite  succession  of  change.  This  constant  method  of 


MARCUS  AURELIUS  237 

alteration  gave  me  my  being,  and  my  father  before  me,  and  so 
on  to  eternity  backward :  for  I  think  I  may  speak  thus,  even 
though  the  world  be  confined  within  certain  determinate 
periods. 

Reason  and  the  reasoning  faculty  need  no  foreign  assist- 
ance, but  are  sufficient  for  their  own  purposes.  They  move 
within  themselves,  and  make  directly  for  the  point  in  view. 
Wherefore,  acts  in  accordance  with  them  are  called  right 
acts,  for  they  lead  along  the  right  road. 

Those  things  do  not  belong  to  a  man  which  do  not  belong 
to  him  as  a  man.  For  they  are  not  included  in  the  idea ;  they 
are  not  required  of  us  men ;  human  nature  does  not  promise 
them ;  neither  is  it  perfected  by  them.  From  whence  it  fol- 
lows that  they  can  neither  constitute  the  chief  end  of  man, 
nor  strictly  contribute  towards  it.  Farther,  if  these  things 
were  any  real  additions,  how  comes  the  contempt  of  them, 
and  the  being  easy  without  them,  to  be  so  great  a  commenda- 
tion? To  balk  an  advantage  would  be  folly  if  these  things 
were  truly  good.  But  the  case  stands  otherwise;  for  we 
know  that  self-denial  and  indifference  about  these  things,  and 
patience  when  they  are  taken  away,  is  the  character  of  a 
good  man. 

Your  manners  wrill  depend  very  much  upon  the  quality 
of  what  you  really  think  on;  for  the  soul  is  as  it  were 
tinged  with  the  color  and  complexion  of  thought.  Be  sure 
therefore  to  work  in  such  maxims  as  these.  Wherever  a  man 
lives,  he  may  live  well ;  by  consequence,  a  life  of  virtue  and 
that  of  a  courtier  are  not  inconsistent.  Again,  that  which  a 
thing  is  made  for,  is  that  towards  which  it  is  carried,  and 
in  that  which  it  is  naturally  carried  to,  lies  the  end  of  the 
act.  Now  where  the  end  of  a  thing  is,  there  the  advantage 
and  improvement  of  it  is  certainly  lodged.  Now  the  happi- 
ness of  mankind  lies  in  society,  since  that  we  were  made  for 
this  purpose,  I  have  proved  already.  For  is  it  not  plain  that 
the  lower  order  of  beings  are  made  for  the  higher,  and  the 
higher  for  the  service  of  each  other?  Now  as  those  with 
souls  are  superior  to  the  soulless,  so  amongst  all  creatures 
with  souls  the  rational  are  the  best. 

To  expect  an  impossibility  is  madness.  Now  it  is  impos- 
sible for  ill  men  not  to  do  ill. 


238  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

There  is  nothing  happens  to  any  person  but  what  was 
in  his  power  to  go  through  with.  Some  people  have  had  very 
severe  trials,  and  yet  either  by  having  less  understanding,  or 
more  pride  than  ordinary,  have  charged  bravely  through 
the  misfortune,  and  come  off  without  a  scratch.  Now  it  is 
a  disgrace  to  let  ignorance  and  vanity  do  more  with  us  than 
prudence  and  principle. 

Outward  objects  cannot  take  hold  of  the  soul,  nor  force 
their  passage  into  her,  nor  set  any  of  her  wheels  going.  No, 
the  impression  comes  from  herself,  and  it  is  her  own  motions 
which  affect  her.  As  for  the  contingencies  of  fortune,  they 
are  either  great  or  little,  according  to  the  opinion  she  has 
of  her  own  strength. 

When  we  consider  we  are  bound  to  be  serviceable  to  man- 
kind, and  bear  with  their  faults,  we  shall  perceive  there  is  a 
common  tie  of  nature  and  relation  between  us.  But  when 
we  see  people  grow  troublesome  and  disturb  us  in  our  busi- 
ness, here  we  are  to  look  upon  men  as  indifferent  sort  of 
things,  no  less  than  sun  or  wind,  or  a  wild  beast.  It  is  true 
they  may  hinder  me  in  the  executing  part,  but  all  this  is  of 
no  moment  while  my  inclinations  and  good  intent  stand  firm, 
for  these  can  act  according  to  the  condition  and  change.  For 
the  mind  converts  and  changes  every  hindrance  into  help. 
And  thus  it  is  probable  I  may  gain  by  the  opposition,  and  let 
the  obstacle  help  me  on  my  road. 

Among  all  things  in  the  universe,  direct  your  worship 
to  the  greatest.  And  which  is  that?  It  is  that  being  which 
manages  and  governs  all  the  rest.  And  as  you  worship  the 
best  thing  in  nature,  so  you  are  to  pay  a  proportionate  regard 
to  the  best  thing  in  yourself,  and  this  is  akin  to  the  Deity. 
The  quality  of  its  functions  will  discover  it.  It  is  the  reign- 
ing power  within  you,  which  disposes  of  your  actions  and 
your  fortune. 

That  which  does  not  hurt  the  city  or  body  politic  cannot 
hurt  the  citizen.  Therefore  when  you  think  you  are  ill-used, 
let  this  reflection  be  your  remedy :  If  the  community  is  not 
the  worse  for  it,  neither  am  I.  But  if  the  community  is  in- 
jured, your  business  is  to  show  the  person  concerned  his 
fault,  but  not  to  grow  passionate  about  it. 

Reflect  frequently  upon  the  instability  of  things,  and  how 


MARCUS  AURELIUS  239 

very  fast  the  scenes  of  nature  are  shifted.  Matter  is  in  a 
perpetual  flux.  Change  is  always  and  everywhere  at  work; 
it  strikes  through  causes  and  effects,  and  leaves  nothing  fixed 
and  permanent.  And  then  how  very  near  us  stand  the  two 
vast  gulfs  of  time,  the  past  and  the  future,  in  which  all  things 
disappear.  Now  is  not  that  man  a  blockhead  that  lets  these 
momentary  things  make  him  proud,  or  uneasy,  or  sorrowful, 
as  though  they  could  trouble  him  for  long  ? 

Remember  what  an  atom  your  person  is  in  respect  of  the 
universe,  what  a  minute  of  immeasurable  time  falls  to  your 
share,  and  what  a  small  concern  you  are  in  the  empire  of  fate ! 

A  man  misbehaves  himself  towards  me;  what  is  that  to 
me?  The  action  is  his,  and  the  disposition  that  led  him  to  it 
is  his,  and  therefore  let  him  look  to  it.  As  for  me,  I  am  in 
the  condition  the  universal  nature  assigns  me,  and  am  doing 
what  my  own  nature  assigns  me. 

Whether  the  motions  of  your  body  are  rugged  or  agree- 
able, do  not  let  your  ruling  and  governing  principle  be  con- 
cerned with  them;  confine  the  impressions  to  their  respective 
quarters,  and  let  your  mind  keep  her  distance,  and  not  mingle 
with  them.  It  is  true,  that  which  results  from  the  laws  of 
the  union  through  the  force  of  sympathy  or  constitution,  must 
be  felt,  for  nature  will  have  its  course.  But  though  the  sen- 
sation cannot  be  stopped,  it  must  not  be  overrated,  nor 
strained  to  the  quality  of  good  or  evil. 

We  ought  to  live  with  the  gods.  This  is  done  by  him 
who  always  exhibits  a  soul  contented  with  the  appointments 
of  Providence,  and  obeys  the  orders  of  that  divinity  which  is 
his  deputy  and  ruler,  and  the  offspring  of  God.  Now  this 
divine  authority  is  neither  more  nor  less  than  that  soul  and 
reason  which  every  man  possesses. 

Are  you  angry  at  a  rank  smell  or  an  ill-scented  breath  ? 
What  good  will  this  anger  do  you?  But  you  will  say  the 
man  has  reason,  and  can,  if  he  takes  pains,  discover  wherein 
lie  offends.  I  wish  you  joy  of  your  discovery.  Well,  if  you 
think  mankind  so  full  of  reason,  pray  make  use  of  your  own. 
Argue  the  case  with  the  faulty  person,  and  show  him  his 
error.  If  your  advice  prevails,  he  is  what  you  wrould  have 
him ;  and  then  there  is  no  need  of  being  angry. 

You  may  live  now  if  you  please,  as  you  would  choose  to 


240  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

do  if  you  were  near  dying.  But  suppose  people  will  not  let 
you,  why  then,  give  life  the  slip,  but  by  no  means  make  a 
misfortune  of  it.  If  the  room  smokes  I  leave  it,  and  there 
is  an  end,  for  why  should  one  be  concerned  at  the  matter? 
However,  as  long  as  nothing  of  this  kind  drives  me  out,  I 
stay,  behave  as  a  free  man,  and  do  what  I  have  a  mind  to; 
but  then  I  have  a  mind  to  nothing  but  what  I  am  led  to  by 
reason  and  public  interest. 

The  soul  of  the  universe  is  of  a  social  disposition.  For 
this  reason  it  has  made  the  lower  part  of  the  creation  for  the 
sake  of  the  higher.  And  as  for  those  beings  of  the  higher 
rank,  it  has  bound  them  to  each  other.  You  see  how  admi- 
rably things  are  ranged  and  subordinated  according  to  the 
dignity  of  their  kind,  and  cemented  together  in  mutual  har- 
mony. 

Recollect  how  you  have  behaved  yourself  all  along  towards 
the  gods,  your  parents,  brothers,  wife,  and  children ;  towards 
your  instructors,  governors,  friends,  acquaintance,  and  serv- 
ants. Whether  men  can  say  of  you,  "He  never  wronged  a 
man  in  word  or  deed."  Recollect  how  much  business  you 
have  been  engaged  in,  and  what  you  have  had  strength  to 
endure ;  that  now  your  task  is  done,  and  the  history  of  your 
life  finished.  Remember  likewise  how  many  fair  sights  you 
have  seen,  how  much  of  pleasure  and  pain  you  have  de- 
spised, how  much  glory  disregarded,  and  how  often  you  have 
done  good  against  evil. 

"Why  should  skill  and  knowledge  be  disturbed  at  the  cen- 
sures of  ignorance?  But  who  are  these  knowing  and  skillful 
people?  Why,  those  who  are  acquainted  with  the  original 
cause  and  end  of  all  things,  with  that  reason  which  pervades 
the  mass  of  matter,  which  renews  the  world  at  certain  periods, 
and  which  governs  it  through  all  the  lengths  of  time. 

You  will  quickly  be  reduced  to  ashes  and  skeleton.  And 
it  may  be  you  will  have  a  name  left  you,  and  it  may  be  not. 
And  what  is  a  name?  Nothing  but  sound  and  echo.  And 
then  for  those  things  which  are  so  much  valued  in  the  world, 
they  are  miserably  empty  and  rotten,  and  insignificant.  It 
is  like  puppies  snarling  for  a  bone;  and  the  contests  of  little 
children  sometimes  transported,  and  then  again  all  in  tears 
about  a  plaything.  And  as  for  modesty  and  good  faith,  truth 


MARCUS  AURELIUS  241 

and  justice,  they  have  fled  "up  to  Olympus  from  the  wide- 
spread earth."  And  now,  what  is  it  that  can  keep  you  here? 
For  if  the  objects  of  sense  are  floating  and  changeable,  and 
the  organs  misty,  and  apt  to  be  imposed  on;  if  the  soul  is 
but  a  vapor  drawn  off  the  blood,  and  the  applause  of  little 
mortals  insignificant;  if  the  case  stands  thus,  why  not  have 
patience  till  you  are  either  extinguished  or  removed?  And 
till  that  time  comes,  what  is  to  be  done  ?  The  answer  is  easy : 
to  worship  the  gods,  and  speak  honorably  of  them;  to  be 
beneficial  to  mankind ;  to  bear  with  them  or  avoid  them ;  and 
lastly,  to  remember  that  whatever  lies  without  the  compass 
of  your  own  flesh  and  breath  is  nothing  of  yours,  nor  in  your 
power. 

You  may  be  always  successful  if  you  do  but  set  out  well, 
and  let  your  thoughts  and  practice  proceed  upon  right 
method.  There  are  two  properties  and  privileges  common  to 
the  soul  of  God  and  man  and  all  rational  beings.  The  one  is, 
not  to  be  hindered  by  anything  external;  the  other,  to  make 
virtuous  intention  and  action  their  supreme  satisfaction,  and 
not  so  much  as  to  desire  anything  farther. 

If  this  accident  is  no  fault  of  mine,  nor  a  consequence  of 
it ;  and  besides,  if  the  community  is  never  the  worse  for  it, 
why  am  I  concerned?  Now,  how  is  the  community  injured? 

Do  not  suffer  a  sudden  impression  to  overbear  your  judg- 
ment. Let  those  that  want  your  assistance  have  it  as  far  as 
the  case  requires.  But  if  they  are  injured  in  matters  indif- 
ferent, do  not  consider  it  any  real  damage,  for  that  is  a  bad 
habit.  But  as  the  old  man,  when  he  went  away,  asked  back 
his  foster-child's  top,  remembering  that  it  was  a  top,  so  do 
in  this  case  also.  When  you  are  haranguing  in  the  rostra, 
a  little  of  this  to  yourself  would  not  be  amiss: — Hark  you, 
friend,  have  you  forgotten  what  this  glitter  of  honor  really 
is?  I  grant  it  is  but  tinsel,  but  for  all  that  it  is  extremely 
valued.  And  because  other  people  are  fools,  must  you  be  so 
too  ?  I  can  at  once  become  happy  anywhere,  for  he  is  happy 
who  has  found  for  himself  a  happy  lot.  In  a  word,  happiness 
lies  all  in  the  functions  of  reason,  in  warrantable  desires  and 
virtuous  practice. 


A.  V.  1—16 


LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


BOOK  VI 

As  the  substance  of  the  universe  is  pliable  and  obedient,  so 
that  sovereign  reason  which  gives  laws  to  it  has  neither 
motive  nor  inclination  to  bring  an  evil  upon  anything.  It  has 
no  evil  in  its  nature,  nor  does  evil,  but  forms  and  governs 
all  things,  and  hurts  nothing. 

Do  but  your  duty,  and  do  not  trouble  yourself,  whether 
it  is  in  the  cold,  or  by  a  good  fire,  whether  you  are  over- 
watched, or  satisfied  with  sleep,  whether  you  have  a  good 
word  or  a  bad  one,  whether  you  are  dying,  or  doing  anything 
else,  for  this  last  must  be  done  at  one  time  or  other.  It  is 
part  of  the  business  of  life  to  leave  it,  and  here  too  it  suffices 
to  manage  the  present  well. 

Look  thoroughly  into  matters,  and  let  not  the  peculiar 
quality  or  intrinsic  value  of  anything  escape  you. 

The  present  appearance  of  things  will  quickly  undergo 
a  change,  and  be  either  exhaled  into  common  matter  or  dis- 
persed. 

That  intelligent  Being  that  governs  the  universe  has  perfect 
views  of  His  own  nature  and  acts,  and  of  the  matter  on  which 
He  acts. 

The  best  way  of  revenge  is  not  to  imitate  the  injury. 

Be  always  doing  something  serviceable  to  mankind,  and 
let  this  constant  generosity  be  your  only  pleasure,  not  forget- 
ting in  the  meantime  a  due  regard  to  the  Deity. 

The  governing  part  of  the  mind  arouses  and  alters  itself; 
gives  what  air  it  pleases  to  its  own  likeness,  and  to  all  the 
accidents  and  circumstances  without. 

The  particular  effects  in  the  world  are  all  wrought  by 
one  intelligent  nature.  This  universal  cause  has  no  for- 
eign assistant,  no  interloping  principle,  either  without  or 
within  it. 

The  world  is  either  a  medley  of  atoms  that  now  inter- 
mingle and  now  are  scattered  apart,  or  else  it  is  a  unity  under 
the  laws  of  order  and  providence.  If  the  first,  what  should 
I  stay  for,  where  nature  is  in  such  a  chaos,  and  things  are  so 
blindly  jumbled  together?  Why  do  I  care  for  anything  else 
than  to  return  to  the  element  of  earth  as  soon  as  may  be? 
Why  should  I  give  myself  any  trouble?  Let  me  do  what  I 


MARCUS  AURELIUS  24-3 

will,  my  elements  will  be  scattered.  But  if  there  is  a  Provi- 
dence, then  I  adore  the  great  Governor  of  the  world,  and  am 
easy  and  of  good  cheer  in  the  prospect  of  protection. 

[The  "Meditations"  contain  twelve  books  in  all;  but  the 
later  books,  seven  to  twelve,  contain  no  material  of  an  auto- 
biographical or  even  of  a  personal  character,  except  perhaps 
in  the  passages  that  follow.] 

To  keep  you  modest  and  free  from  vain  glory,  remember 
that  it  is  no  longer  in  your  power  to  spend  your  life  wholly, 
from  youth  upwards,  in  the  pursuit  of  wisdom.  Your  friends 
and  yourself,  too,  are  sufficiently  acquainted  how  much  you 
fall  short  of  philosophy ;  you  have  been  liable  to  disturbance, 
so  that  the  bare  report  of  being  a  philosopher  is  no  longer 
an  easy  matter  for  you  to  compass;  you  are  unqualified  by 
your  station.  However,  since  you  know  how  to  come  at  the 
thing,  never  be  concerned  about  missing  the  credit.  Be  satis- 
fied, therefore,  and  for  the  rest  of  your  life  let  your  own 
rational  nature  direct  you.  Mind,  then,  what  she  desires,  and 
let  nothing  foreign  disturb  you.  You  are  very  sensible  how 
much  you  have  rambled  after  happiness,  and  failed.  Neither 
learning,  nor  wealth,  nor  fame,  nor  pleasure  could  ever  help 
you  to  it.  Which  way  is  it  to  be  had  then?  By  acting  up 
to  the  height  of  human  nature.  And  how  shall  a  man  do 
this  ?  Why,  by  getting  a  right  set  of  principles  for  impulses 
and  actions.  And  what  principles  are  those?  Such  as  state 
and  distinguish  good  and  evil.  Such  as  give  us  to  understand 
that  there  is  nothing  properly  good  for  a  man  but  what  pro- 
motes the  virtues  of  justice,  temperance,  fortitude,  and  inde- 
pendence, nor  anything  bad  for  him,  but  that  which  carries 
him  off  to  the  contrary  vices. 

At  every  action  ask  yourself  this  question,  What  will  the 
consequence  of  this  be  to  me  ?  Am  I  not  likely  to  repent  of  it? 
I  shall  be  dead  in  a  little  time,  and  then  all  is  over  with  me. 
If  the  present  undertaking  is  but  suitable  to  an  intelligent  and 
sociable  being,  and  one  that  has  the  honor  to  live  by  the  same 
rule  and  reason  with  God  himself ;  if  the  case  stands  thus,  all 
is  well,  and  to  what  purpose  should  you  look  any  farther? 

Alexander,  Julius  Ccesar,  and  Pompey,  what  were  they  in 
comparison  of  Diogenes,  Heraclitus,  and  Socrates?  These 
philosophers  looked  through  things  and  their  causes,  and  their 


244  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

ruling  principles  were  in  accordance.  But  as  for  those  great 
princes,  what  a  load  of  cares  were  they  pestered  with,  and  to 
how  many  things  were  they  slaves! 

People  will  play  the  same  pranks  over  and  over  again, 
though  you  should  burst. 

In  the  first  place,  keep  yourself  easy,  for  all  things  are 
governed  by  the  universal  nature.  Besides,  you  will  quickly 
go  the  way  of  all  flesh,  as  Augustus  and  Hadrian  have  done 
before  you.  Farther,  examine  the  matter  to  the  bottom,  and 
remember  that  your  business  is  to  be  a  good  man.  Therefore, 
whatever  the  dignity  of  human  nature  requires  of  you,  set 
about  it  at  once,  without  "ifs"  or  "ands";  and  speak  al- 
ways according  to  your  conscience,  but  let  it  be  done  in  the 
terms  of  good  nature  and  modesty  and  sincerity.  .  .  . 

You  have  no  leisure  to  read  books,  what  then?  You  have 
leisure  to  check  your  insolence.  It  is  in  your  power  to  be 
superior  to  pleasure  and  pain,  to  be  deaf  to  the  charms  of  am- 
bition. It  is  in  your  power  not  only  to  forbear  being  angry 
with  people  for  their  folly  and  ingratitude,  but  over  and 
above,  to  cherish  their  interest,  and  take  care  of  them. 

Never  again  let  any  man  hear  you  censure  a  court  life,  nor 
seem  dissatisfied  with  your  own. 

Repentance  is  a  reproof  of  a  man's  conscience  for  the  neg- 
lect of  some  advantages.  Now,  whatever  is  morally  good  is 
profitable,  and  ought  to  be  the  concern  of  a  man  of  probity. 
But  no  good  man  would  ever  be  inwardly  troubled  for  the 
omission  of  any  pleasure,  whence  it  follows  that  pleasure  is 
neither  profitable  nor  good. 

What  is  this  thing  considered  in  itself?  Of  what  sort  of 
substance,  of  what  material  and  causal  parts  does  it  consist? 
What  share  of  action  has  it  in  the  world?  and  how  long  is  it 
likely  to  stay  there? 

When  you  find  yourself  sleepy  in  a  morning,  remember 
that  business  and  doing  service  to  the  world  is  to  act  up  to 
nature  and  live  like  a  man.  Whereas  sleep  you  have  in  com- 
mon with  the  beasts.  Now  those  actions  which  fall  in  with  a 
man 's  nature  are  more  suitable  and  serviceable,  yes,  and  more 
pleasant  than  others.  .  .  . 

O  my  soul,  are  you  ever  to  be  rightly  good,  simple,  and 
uniform,  unmasked,  and  made  more  visible  to  yourself  than 


MARCUS  AURELIUS  245 

the  body  that  hangs  about  you  ?  Are  you  ever  likely  to  relish 
good  nature  and  general  kindness  as  you  ought?  Will  you 
ever  be  fully  satisfied,  get  above  want  and  wishing,  and  never 
desire  to  seek  your  pleasure  in  anything  foreign,  either  living 
or  inanimate?  Not  desiring,  I  say,  either  time  for  longer 
enjoyment  nor  place  for  elbpw-room,  nor  climate  for  good 
air,  nor  the  music  of  good  company?  Can  you  be  contented 
with  your  present  condition,  and  be  pleased  with  all  that  is 
about  you,  and  be  persuaded  that  you  are  fully  furnished,  that 
all  things  are  well  with  you ;  for  the  gods  are  at  the  head  of 
the  administration,  and  they  will  approve  of  nothing  but  what 
is  for  the  best,  and  tends  to  the  security  and  advantage  of 
that  good,  righteous,  beautiful,  and  perfect  being  which  gen- 
erates and  supports  and  surrounds  all  things,  and  embraces 
those  things  which  decay,  that  other  resembling  beings  may 
be  made  out  of  them  ?  In  a  word,  are  you  ever  likely  to  be  so 
happily  qualified  as  to  converse  with  the  gods  and  men  in 
such  a  manner  as  neither  to  complain  of  them  nor  be  con- 
demned by  them? 

Examine  what  your  nature  requires,  so  far  as  you  have 
no  other  law  to  govern  you.  And  when  you  have  looked  into 
her  inclinations  never  balk  them,  unless  your  animal  nature  is 
likely  to  be  worse  for  it.  Then  you  are  to  examine  what  your 
animal  nature  demands;  and  here  you  may  indulge  your  ap- 
petite as  far  as  you  please,  provided  your  rational  nature  does 
not  suffer  by  the  liberty.  Now,  your  rational  nature  admits 
of  nothing  but  what  is  serviceable  to  the  rest  of  mankind. 
Keep  firmly  to  these  rules,  and  you  will  have  regard  for 
nothing  else. 

Whatever  happens,  either  you  have  strength  to  bear  it, 
or  you  have  not.  If  you  have,  exert  your  nature,  and  never 
murmur  at  the  matter.  But  if  the  weight  is  too  heavy  for 
you,  do  not  complain ;  it  will  crush  you,  and  then  destroy  it- 
self. And  here  you  are  to  remember  that  to  think  a  thing 
tolerable  and  endurable  is  the  way  to  make  it  so  if  you  do  but 
press  it  strongly  on  the  grounds  of  interest  or  duty. 

Is  any  one  mistaken?  Undeceive  him  civilly,  and  show 
him  his  oversight.  But  if  you  cannot  convince  him,  blame 
yourself,  or  not  even  yourself. 

Whatever  happens  to  you  was  preordained  your  lot  from 


246  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

the  first ;  and  that  chain  of  causes  which  constitutes  fate,  tied 
your  person  and  the  event  together  from  all  eternity. 

"Whether  atoms  or  nature  rule  the  world  I  lay  it  down  in 
the  first  place,  that  I  am  part  of  that  whole  which  is  all  under 
nature's  government.  Secondly,  I  am  in  some  measure  re- 
lated to  those  beings  which  are  of  my  own  order  and  species. 
These  points  being  agreed,  I  shall  apply  them.  Insomuch 
then  as  I  am  a  part  of  the  universe,  I  shall  never  be  displeased 
with  the  general  appointment ;  for  that  can  never  be  preju- 
dicial to  the  part  which  is  serviceable  to  the  whole,  since  the 
universe  contains  nothing  but  what  is  serviceable  to  it.  For 
the  nature  of  no  being  is  an  enemy  to  itself.  But  the  world 
has  this  advantage  above  other  particular  beings,  that  there 
is  no  foreign  power  to  force  it  to  produce  anything  hurtful 
to  itself.  Since,  therefore,  I  am  a  member  of  so  magnificent 
a  body,  I  shall  freely  acquiesce  in  whatever  happens  to  me. 
Farther,  inasmuch  as  I  have  a  particular  relation  to  my  own 
species,  I  will  never  do  anything  against  the  common  interest. 
On  the  other  hand,  I  shall  make  it  my  business  to  oblige  man- 
kind, direct  my  whole  life  for  the  advantage  of  the  public, 
and  avoid  the  contrary.  And  by  holding  to  this  conduct,  I 
must  be  happy,  as  that  citizen  must  needs  be  who  is  always 
working  for  the  benefit  of  his  fellow-citizens,  and  perfectly 
satisfied  with  that  interest  and  station  the  government  assigns 
him. 

The  properties  of  a  rational  soul  are  these.  She  has  the 
privilege  to  look  into  her  own  nature,  to  cut  her  qualities 
and  form  herself  to  what  character  she  pleases.  She  enjoys 
her  product  (whereas  trees  and  cattle  bring  plenty  for  other 
folks).  "Whether  life  proves  long  or  short,  she  gains  the 
ends  of  living.  Her  business  is  never  spoilt  by  interruption, 
as  it  happens  in  a  dance  or  a  play.  In  every  part  and  in  spite 
of  every  interruption,  her  acts  are  always  finished  and  entire ; 
so  that  she  may  say:  I  carry  off  all  that  belongs  to  me. 
Farther,  she  ranges  through  the  whole  world,  views  its  figure, 
looks  into  the  vacuum  on  the  outside  of  it,  and  strains  her 
sight  on  to  an  immeasurable  length  of  time. 

"What  a  brave  soul  is  that  that  is  always  prepared  to  leave 
the  body  and  unconcerned  about  her  being  either  extin- 
guished, scattered,  or  removed — prepared,  I  say,  upon  judg- 


MARCUS  AURELIUS  247 

ment,  and  not  out  of  mere  obstinacy  like  the  Christians — but 
with  a  solemn  air  of  gravity  and  consideration,  and  in  a  way 
to  persuade  another  and  without  tragic  show. 

God  sees  through  the  soul  of  every  man  as  clearly  as  if 
it  was  not  wrapped  up  in  matter,  nor  had  anything  of  the 
shroud  and  coarseness  of  body  about  it.  And  God,  with  his 
intellectual  part  alone,  touches  those  beings  only  that  have 
flowed  and  proceeded  from  him.  Now,  if  you  would  learn 
to  do  thus,  a  great  deal  of  trouble  would  be  saved;  for  he 
that  can  overlook  his  body  will  hardly  disturb  himself  about 
the  clothes  he  wears,  the  house  he  dwells  in,  about  his  repu- 
tation, or  any  part  of  this  pomp  and  magnificence.  .  .  . 

To  those  that  ask  me  the  reason  of  my  being  so  earnest  in 
religious  worship,  and  whether  I  ever  saw  any  of  the  gods,  or 
which  way  I  am  convinced  of  the  certainty  of  their  existence ; 
in  the  first  place,  I  answer,  that  the  gods  are  not  invisible. 
But  granting  they  were,  the  objection  would  signify  nothing, 
for  I  never  had  a  sight  of  my  own  soul,  and  yet  I  have  a 
great  value  for  it.  And  thus  by  my  constant  experience  of 
the  power  of  the  gods  I  have  a  proof  of  their  being,  and  a 
reason  for  my  veneration. 

The  best  provision  for  a  happy  life  is  to  dissect  everything, 
view  its  own  nature,  and  divide  it  into  matter  and  form.  To 
practice  honesty  in  good  earnest,  and  speak  truth  from  the 
very  soul  of  you.  What  remains  but  to  live  easy  and  cheer- 
ful, and  crowd  one  good  action  so  close  to  another  that  there 
may  not  be  the  least  empty  space  between  them. 

The  light  of  the  sun  is  but  one  and  the  same,  though  it 
is  divided  by  the  interposition  of  walls  and  mountains,  and 
abundance  of  other  opaque  bodies.  There  is  but  one  common 
matter,  though  it  is  parceled  out  among  bodies  of  different 
qualities.  There  is  but  one  sensitive  soul  too,  notwithstand- 
ing it  is  divided  among  innumerable  natures  and  individual 
limitations.  And  lastly,  the  rational  soul,  though  it  seems 
to  be  split  into  distinction,  is  but  one  and  the  same.  Now, 
excepting  this  last,  the  other  parts  above-mentioned,  such  as 
breath  and  matter,  though  without  apprehension,  or  any  com- 
mon affection  to  tie  them  to  each  other,  are  yet  upheld  by 
an  intelligent  being,  and  by  that  faculty  which  pushes  things 
of  the  same  nature  to  the  same  place ;  but  human  under- 


248  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

standings  have  a  peculiar  disposition  to  union;  they  stick 
together  by  inclination,  and  nothing  can  extinguish  such 
sociable  thoughts  in  them. 

What  is  it  you  hanker  after?  Is  it  bare  existence?  or 
sensation  ?  or  motion  ?  or  strength,  that  you  may  lose  it  again 
in  decay  ?  What  ?  Is  it  the  privilege  of  speech,  or  the  power 
of  thinking  in  general?  Is  any  of  this  worth  desiring?  If 
all  these  things  are  trifles,  proceed  to  something  that  is  worth 
your  while,  and  that  is  to  be  governed  by  reason  and  the 
Deity.  And  yet  you  cannot  be  said  to  value  these  last-men- 
tioned privileges  rightly,  if  you  are  disturbed  because  death 
must  take  them  from  you. 

What  a  small  part  of  immeasurable  and  infinite  time  falls 
to  the  share  of  a  single  mortal,  and  how  soon  is  every  one 
swallowed  up  in  eternity !  What  a  handful  of  the  universal 
matter  goes  to  the  making  of  a  human  body,  and  what  a 
very  little  of  the  universal  soul  too !  And  on  what  a  narrow 
clod  with  respect  to  the  whole  earth  do  you  crawl  upon! 
Consider  all  this,  and  reckon  nothing  great,  unless  it  be  to 
act  in  conformity  to  your  own  reason,  and  to  suffer  as  the 
universal  nature  shall  appoint  you.  The  great  business  of  a 
man  is  to  improve  his  mind,  therefore  consider  how  he  does 
this.  As  for  all  other  things,  whether  in  our  power  to  com- 
pass or  not,  they  are  no  better  than  lifeless  ashes  and  smoke. 

We  cannot  have  a  more  promising  notion  to  set  us  above 
the  fear  of  death,  than  to  consider  that  it  has  been  despised 
even  by  that  sect  [the  Epicureans]  who  made  pleasure  and 
pain  the  standard  of  good  and  evil.  He  that  likes  no  time  so 
well  as  the  fitting  season,  he  that  is  indifferent  whether  he  has 
room  for  a  long  progress  in  reason  or  not,  or  whether  he  has 
a  few  or  a  great  many  years  to  view  the  world  in,  a  person 
thus  qualified  will  never  be  afraid  of  dying. 

Hark  ye,  friend:  you  have  been  a  burgher  of  this  great 
city,  what  matter  though  you  have  lived  in  it  five  years  or 
three ;  if  you  have  observed  the  laws  of  the  corporation,  the 
length  or  shortness  of  the  time  makes  no  difference.  Where  is 
the  hardship  then  if  nature,  that  planted  you  here,  orders  your 
removal?  You  cannot  say  you  are  sent  off  by  a  tyrant  or 
unjust  judge.  No;  you  quit  the  stage  as  fairly  as  a  player 
does  that  has  his  discharge  from  the  master  of  the  revels. 


MARCUS  AURELIUS  249 

But  I  have  only  gone  through  three  acts,  and  not  held  out 
to  the  end  of  the  fifth.  You  say  well ;  but  in  life  three  acts 
make  the  play  entire.  He  that  ordered  the  opening  of  the 
first  scene  now  gives  the  sign  for  shutting  up  the  last;  you 
are  neither  accountable  for  one  nor  the  other;  therefore 
retire  well  satisfied,  for  He  by  whom  you  are  dismissed  is 
satisfied  too. 

THE   END   OF   THE   TWELFTH   AND   LAST  BOOK  OP  THE   "MEDITA- 
TIONS" 


^-fclt1" 


SAINT  AUGUSTINE  OF  HIPPO 


SAINT  AUGUSTINE 

THE  GREATEST  "FATHER"  OF  THE   CHRISTIAN  CHUECH 

354-430  A.  D. 
(INTRODUCTORY  NOTE) 

With  the  celebrated  "Confessions"  of  Saint  Augustine  we  reach  the 
first  universally  recognized  revelation  of  man's  inner  life.  It  is  some- 
times called  "the  greatest  autobiography  of  the  world."  Augustine 
was  a  native  of  the  Koman  province  of  Numidia  in  Africa.  In  his  early 
days  he  lived  wildly  and  became  disgusted  with  life;  he  next  turned  to 
philosophy  and  his  keen  mind  pierced  the  emptiness  of  a  dozen  pagan 
systems  of  thought.  He  was  from  the  first  a  noted  scholar,  then  he 
became  an  eager  follower  of  the  Manichean  school  of  semi-Christian 
philosophy,  then  a  wearied,  half -contemptuous  student  of  Socrates  and 
Plato.  At  length,  thoroughly  disillusioned  as  to  his  early  joys  and 
opinions,  he  visited  Milan  in  Italy  and  there  met  Saint  Ambrose,  the 
celebrated  Christian  Bishop  of  Milan.  By  Ambrose,  in  the  year  387, 
Augustine  was  convinced  of  the  truth  of  Christianity.  He  became  a 
priest  and  ultimately  Bishop  of  Hippo,  a  city  of  his  native  Africa. 

Augustine  proved  himself  a  Christian  leader  of  profound  faith,  and 
tremendous  energy  and  power.  He  was  soon  recognized  as  the  chief 
writer  and  thinker  of  his  day,  and  all  later  writers  have  referred  to  him 
with  deep  admiration,  appealing  to  his  doctrines  as  the  highest  churchly 
authority  since  the  days  of  the  Apostles.  He  is  held  in  equal  esteem 
by  Catholics  and  Protestants;  and  is  recognized  as  the  foremost  of  the 
so-called  ' '  Fathers  of  the  Christian  Church, ' '  that  is,  the  teachers  who 
framed  its  doctrines  and  guided  it  through  the  controversies  of  the 
Roman  Age. 

Augustine's  two  most  noted  books  are  the  "Confessions"  and  the 
"City  of  God."  The  latter,  written  in  his  ripened  age,  is  an  able, 
passionate,  poetical  work  picturing  the  coming  of  God's  rule  on  earth 
through  the  organized  government  of  the  Christian  Church.  The  "Con- 
fessions" was  written  in  393  shortly  after  Augustine's  conversion.  It 
is  an  intense  and  most  impressive  picture  of  the  searches  and  struggles 
of  a  tortured  soul,  and  of  the  final  triumphant  happiness  and  security 
with  which  the  great  "Father"  reached  his  goal  of  faith. 

251 


252  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


THE   CONFESSIONS   OF   SAINT   AUGUSTINE 

BOOK  I 

Great  art  Thou,  O  Lord,  and  greatly  to  be  praised;  great  is 
Thy  power,  and  Thy  wisdom  infinite.  And  Thee  would  man 
praise ;  man,  but  a  particle  of  Thy  creation ;  man,  that  bears 
about  him  his  mortality,  the  witness  of  his  sin,  the  witness, 
that  Thou  resistest  the  proud:  yet  would  man  praise  Thee; 
he,  but  a  particle  of  Thy  creation.  Thou  awakest  us  to  de- 
light in  Thy  praise ;  for  Thou  madest  us  for  Thyself,  and  our 
heart  is  restless,  until  it  repose  in  Thee.  Grant  me,  Lord,  to 
know  and  understand  which  is  first,  to  call  on  Thee  or  to 
praise  Thee;  and,  again,  to  know  Thee  or  to  call  on  Thee. 
For  who  can  call  on  Thee,  not  knowing  Thee?  For  he  that 
knoweth  Thee  not,  may  call  on  Thee  as  other  than  Thou  art. 
Or,  is  it  rather,  that  we  call  on  Thee  that  we  may  know  Thee  ? 
But  how  shall  they  call  on  Him  in  whom  they  have  not  be- 
lieved f  or  how  shall  they  believe  without  a  preacher?  And 
they  that  seek  the  Lord  shall  praise  Him.  For  they  that  seek 
shall  find  Him,  and  they  that  find  shall  praise  Him.  I  will 
seek  Thee,  Lord,  by  calling  on  Thee;  and  will  call  on  Thee, 
believing  in  Thee;  for  to  us  hast  Thou  been  preached.  My 
faith,  Lord,  shall  call  on  Thee,  which  Thou  hast  given  me, 
wherewith  Thou  hast  inspired  me,  through  the  Incarnation  of 
Thy  Son,  through  the  ministry  of  the  Preacher.1 

And  how  shall  I  call  upon  my  God,  my  God  and  Lord, 
since,  when  I  call  for  Him,  I  shall  be  calling  Him  to  myself? 
and  what  room  is  there  within  me,  whither  my  God  can  come 
into  me?  Whither  can  God  come  into  me,  God  who  made 
heaven  and  earth?  Is  there,  indeed,  0  Lord  my  God,  aught 
in  me  that  can  contain  Thee?  Do  then  heaven  and  earth, 
which  Thou  hast  made,  and  wherein  Thou  hast  made  me,  con- 
tain Thee  ?  or,  because  nothing  which  exists  could  exist  with- 
out Thee,  doth  therefore  whatever  exists  contain  Thee  ?  Since, 
then,  I  too  exist,  why  do  I  seek  that  Thou  shouldest  enter  into 
me,  who  were  not,  wert  Thou  not  in  me  ?  Why  ?  Because  I 
am  not  gone  down  in  hell,  and  yet  Thou  art  there  also.  For 

'8.  Ambrose;  from  whom  were  the  beginnings  of  his  conversion,  and 
by  whom  he  was  baptized. 


SAINT  AUGUSTINE  253 

if  I  go  down  into  hell,  Thou,  art  there.  I  could  not  be  then, 
O  niy  God,  could  not  be  at  all,  wert  Thou  not  in  me;  or, 
rather,  unless  I  were  in  Thee,  of  whom  are  all  things,  &?/ 
whom  are  all  things,  in  wham  are  all  things ?  Even  so,  Lord, 
even  so.  Whither  do  I  call  Thee,  since  I  am  in  Thee?  or 
whence  canst  Thou  enter  into  me?  For  whither  can  I  go 
beyond  heaven  and  earth,  that  thence  my  God  should  come 
into  me,  who  hath  said,  I  fill  the  heaven  and  the  earth? 

Do  2  the  heaven  and  earth  then  contain  Thee,  since  Thou 
fillest  them?  or  dost  Thou  fill  them  and  yet  overflow,  since 
they  do  not  contain  Thee?  And  whither,  when  the  heaven 
and  the  earth  are  filled,  pourest  Thou  forth  the  remainder  of 
Thyself?  Or  hast  Thou  no  need  that  aught  contain  Thee, 
who  containest  all  things,  since  what  Thou  fillest  Thou  fillest 
by  containing  it?  For  the  vessels  which  Thou  fillest  uphold 
Thee  not,  since,  though  they  were  broken,  Thou  wert  not 
poured  out.  And  when  Thou  art  poured  out  on  us,  Thou  art 
not  cast  down,  but  Thou  upliftest  us ;  Thou  art  not  dissipated, 
but  Thou  gatherest  us.  But  Thou  who  fillest  all  things,  fillest 
Thou  them  with  Thy  whole  self?  or,  since  all  things  cannot 
contain  Thee  wholly,  do  they  contain  part  of  Thee  ?  and  all  at 
once  the  same  part?  or  each  its  own  part,  the  greater  more, 
the  smaller  less?  And  is,  then,  one  part  of  Thee  greater, 
another  less?  or,  art  Thou  wholly  everywhere,  while  nothing 
contains  Thee  wholly? 

What  art  Thou  then,  my  God  ?  What,  but  the  Lord  God  ? 
For  who  is  Lord  tut  the  Lord?  or  who  is  God  save  our  God? 
Most  highest,  most  good,  most  potent,  most  omnipotent;  most 
merciful,  yet  most  just ;  most  hidden,  yet  most  present ;  most 
beautiful,  yet  most  strong;  stable,  yet  incomprehensible;  un- 
changeable, yet  all-changing ;  never  new,  never  old ;  all-renew- 
ing, and  bringing  age  upon  the  proud,  and  they  know  it  not; 
ever  working,  ever  at  rest;  still  gathering,  yet  nothing  lack- 
ing; supporting,  filling,  and  overspreading;  creating,  nour- 
ishing, and  maturing;  seeking,  yet  having  all  things.  Thou 
lovest,  without  passion ;  art  jealous,  without  anxiety ;  re- 
pentest,  yet  grievest  not ;  art  angry,  yet  serene ;  changest  Thy 
works,  Thy  purpose  unchanged ;  receivest  again  what  Thou 
findest,  yet  didst  never  lose;  never  in  need,  yet  rejoicing  in 

2  Against  the  Manichces. 


254  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

gains;  never  covetous,  yet  exacting  usury.  Thou  receives! 
over  and  above,  that  Thou  mayest  owe;  and  who  hath  aught 
that  is  not  Thine?  Thou  payest  debts,  owing  nothing;  re- 
mittest  debts,  losing  nothing.  And  what  have  I  now  said,  my 
God,  my  life,  my  holy  joy?  or  what  saith  any  man  when  he 
speaks  of  Thee?  Yet  woe  to  him  that  speaketh  not,  since 
mute  are  even  the  most  eloquent. 

Oh !  that  I  might  repose  on  Thee !  Oh !  that  Thou  wouldest 
enter  into  my  heart,  and  inebriate  it,  that  I  may  forget  my 
ills,  and  embrace  Thee,  my  sole  good  ?  What  art  Thou  to  me  ? 
In  Thy  pity,  teach  me  to  utter  it.  Or  what  am  I  to  Thee 
that  Thou  demandest  my  love,  and,  if  I  give  it  not,  art  wroth 
with  me,  and  threatenest  me  with  grievous  woes  ?  Is  it  then 
a  slight  woe  to  love  Thee  not?  Oh!  for  Thy  mercies'  sake, 
tell  me,  O  Lord  my  God,  what  Thou  art  unto  me.  Say  unto 
my  soul,  I  am  thy  salvation.  So  speak,  that  I  may  hear.  Be- 
hold, Lord,  my  heart  is  before  Thee;  open  Thou  the  ears 
thereof,  and  say  unto  my  soul,  I  am  thy  salvation.  After  this 
voice  let  me  haste,  and  take  hold  on  Thee.  Hide  not  Thy  face 
from  me.  Let  me  die 8 — lest  I  die — only  let  me  see  Thy  face. 

Narrow  is  the  mansion  of  my  soul;  enlarge  Thou  it,  that 
Thou  mayest  enter  in.  It  is  ruinous ;  repair  Thou  it.  It  has 
that  within  which  must  offend  Thine  eyes ;  I  confess  and  know 
it.  But  who  shall  cleanse  it?  or  to  whom  should  I  cry,  save 
Thee?  Lord,  cleanse  me  from  my  secret  faults,  and  spare 
Thy  servant  from  the  power  of  the  enemy.  I  believe,  and 
therefore  do  I  speak.  Lord,  Thou  knowest.  Have  I  not  con- 
fessed against  myself  my  transgressions  unto  Thee,  and  Thou, 
my  God,  hast  forgiven  the  iniquity  of  my  heart?  I  contend, 
not  in  judgment  with  Thee,  who  art  the  truth;  I  fear  to  de- 
ceive myself;  lest  mine  iniquity  lie  unto  itself.  Therefore  I 
contend  not  in  judgment  with  Thee;  for  if  Thou,  Lord, 
shouldest  mark  iniquities,  0  Lord,  who  shall  abide  itf 

Yet  suffer  me  to  speak  unto  Thy  mercy,  me,  dust  and  ashes. 
Yet  suffer  me  to  speak,  since  I  speak  to  Thy  mercy,  and  not 
to  scornful  man.  Thou  too,  perhaps,  despisest  me,  yet  wilt 
Thou  return  and  have  compassion  upon  me.  For  what  would 

'i.e.  Let  me  see  the  face  of  God,  though  I  die,  (Ex.  33,  20.)  since 
if  I  see  it  not,  but  it  be  turned  away,  I  must  needs  die,  and  that  "the 
second  death. ' ' 


SAINT  AUGUSTINE  255 

I  say,  0  Lord  my  God,  but  that  I  know  not  whence  I  came  into 
this  dying  life  (shall  I  call  it?)  or  living  death.  Then 
immediately  did  the  comforts  of  Thy  compassion  take  me  up, 
as  I  heard  (for  I  remember  it  not)  from  the  parents  of  my 
flesh,  out  of  whose  substance  Thou  didst  sometime  fashion  me. 
Thus  there  received  me  the  comforts  of  woman's  milk.  For 
neither  my  mother  nor  my  nurses  stored  their  own  breasts 
for  me;  but  Thou  didst  bestow  the  food  of  my  infancy 
through  them,  according  to  Thine  ordinance,  whereby  Thou 
distributest  Thy  riches  through  the  hidden  springs  of  all 
things.  Thou  also  gavest  me  to  desire  no  more  than  Thou 
gavest;  and  to  my  nurses  willingly  to  give  me  what  Thou 
gavest  them.  For  they,  with  an  heaven-taught  affection,  will- 
ingly gave  me  what  they  abounded  with  from  Thee.  For 
this  my  good  from  them,  was  good  for  them.  Nor,  indeed, 
from  them  was  it,  but  through  them ;  for  from  Thee,  0  God, 
are  all  good  things,  and  from  my  God  is  all  my  health.  This 
I  since  learned,  Thou,  through  these  Thy  gifts,  within  me  and 
without,  proclaiming  Thyself  unto  me.  For  them  I  knew  but 
to  suck ;  to  repose  in  what  pleased,  and  cry  at  what  offended 
my  flesh ;  nothing  more. 

Afterwards  I  began  to  smile;  first  in  sleep,  then  waking: 
for  so  it  was  told  me  of  myself,  and  I  believed  it ;  for  we  see 
the  like  in  other  infants,  though  of  myself  I  remember  it 
not.  Thus,  little  by  little,  I  became  conscious  where  I  was; 
and  to  have  a  wish  to  express  my  wishes  to  those  who 
could  content  them,  and  I  could  not;  for  the  wishes  were 
within  me,  and  they  without ;  nor  could  they  by  any  sense 
of  theirs  enter  within  my  spirit.  So  I  flung  about  at  random 
limbs  and  voice,  making  the  few  signs  I  could,  and  such 
as  I  could,  like,  though  in  truth  very  little  like,  what  I  wished. 
And  when  I  was  not  presently  obeyed,  (my  wishes  being 
hurtful  or  unintelligible,)  then  I  was  indignant  with  my 
elders  for  not  submitting  to  me,  with  those  owing  me  no 
service,  for  not  serving  me ;  and  avenged  myself  on  them  by 
tears.  Such  have  I  learnt  infants  to  be  from  observing  them ; 
and,  that  I  was  myself  such,  they,  all  unconscious,  have 
shewn  me  better  than  my  nurses  who  knew  it. 

And,  lo!  my  infancy  died  long  since,  and  I  live.  But 
Thou,  Lord,  who  for  ever  livest,  and  in  whom  nothing  dies: 


256  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

for  before  the  foundation  of  the  worlds,  and  before  all  that 
can  be  called  "before,"  Thou  art,  and  art  God  and  Lord 
of  all  which  Thou  hast  created :  in  Thee  abide,  fixed  for  ever, 
the  first  causes  of  all  things  unabiding;  and  of  all  things 
changeable,  the  springs  abide  in  Thee  unchangeable:  and  in 
Thee  live  the  eternal  reasons  of  all  things  unreasoning  and 
temporal.  Say,  Lord,  to  me,  Thy  suppliant ;  say,  all-pitying, 
to  me,  Thy  pitiable  one ;  say,  did  my  infancy  succeed  another 
age  of  mine  that  died  before  it?  Was  it  that  which  I  spent 
within  my  mother's  womb?  for  of  that  I  have  heard  some- 
what, and  have  myself  seen  women  with  child?  and  what 
before  that  life  again,  0  God  my  joy,  was  I  any  where 
or  any  body  ?  For  this  have  I  none  to  tell  me,  neither  father 
nor  mother,  nor  experience  of  others,  nor  mine  own  mem- 
ory. Dost  Thou  mock  me  for  asking  this,  and  bid  me  praise 
Thee  and  acknowledge  Thee,  for  that  I  do  know? 

I  acknowledge  Thee,  Lord  of  heaven  and  earth,  and  praise 
Thee  for  my  first  rudiments  of  being,  and  my  infancy,  whereof 
I  remember  nothing;  for  Thou  hast  appointed  that  man 
should  from  others  guess  much  as  to  himself;  and  believe 
much  on  the  strength  of  weak  females.  Even  then  I  had 
being  and  life,  and  (at  my  infancy's  close)  I  could  seek 
for  signs,  whereby  to  make  known  to  others  my  sensations. 
Whence  could  such  a  being  be,  save  from  Thee,  Lord  ?  Shall 
any  be  his  own  artificer?  Or  can  there  elsewhere  be  de- 
rived any  vein,  which  may  stream  essence  and  life  into  us, 
save  from  Thee,  O  Lord,  in  whom  essence  and  life  are  one? 
for  Thou  Thyself  art  supremely  Essence  and  Life.  For 
Thou  art  most  high,  and  art  not  changed,  neither  in  Thee 
doth  To-day  come  to  a  close ;  yet  in  Thee  doth  it  come  to 
a  close;  because  all  such  things  also  are  in  Thee.  For  they 
had  no  way  to  pass  away,  unless  Thou  upheldest  them.  And 
since  Thy  years  fail  not,  Thy  years  are  one  To-day.  How 
many  of  ours  and  our  fathers'  years  have  flowed  away 
through  Thy  "to-day,"  and  from  it  received  the  measure 
and  the  mold  of  such  being  as  they  had ;  and  still  others 
shall  flow  away,  arid  so  receive  the  mold  of  their  degree 
of  being.  But  Thou,  art  still  the  same,  and  all  tilings  of  to- 
morrow, and  all  beyond,  and  all  of  yesterday,  and  all  behind 
it,  Thou  hast  done  to-day.  What  is  it  to  me,  though  any 


SAINT  AUGUSTINE  257 

comprehend  not  this?  Let  him  also  rejoice  and  say,  What 
thing  is  this?  Let  him  rejoice  even  thus;  and  be  content 
rather  by  not  discovering  to  discover  Thee,  than  by  discover- 
ing not  to  discover  Thee. 

Hear,  0  God.  Alas,  for  man's  sin!  So  saith  man,  and 
Thou  pitiest  him;  for  Thou  madest  him,  but  sin  in  him 
Thou  madest  not.  Who  remindeth  me  of  the  sins  of  my  in- 
fancy? for  in  Thy  sight  none  is  pure  from  sin,  not  even  the 
infant  whose  life  is  but  a  day  upon  the  earth.  Who  re- 
mindeth me?  Doth  not  each  little  infant,  in  whom  I  see 
what  of  myself  I  remember  not?  What  then  was  my  sin? 
Was  it  that  I  hung  upon  the  breast  and  cried?  For  should 
I  now  so  do  for  food  suitable  to  my  age,  justly  should  I 
be  laughed  at  and  reproved.  What  I  then  did  was  worthy 
of  reproof;  but  since  I  could  not  understand  reproof,  custom 
and  reason  forbade  me  to  be  reproved.  For  those  habits, 
when  grown,  we  root  out  and  cast  away.  Now  no  man, 
though  he  prunes,  wittingly  casts  away  what  is  good.  Or  was 
it  then  good,  even  for  a  while,  to  cry  for  what,  if  given, 
would  hurt?  bitterly  to  resent,  that  persons  free,  and  its 
own  elders,  yea,  the  very  authors  of  its  birth,  served  it  not? 
that  many  besides,  wiser  than  it,  obeyed  not  the  nod  of  its 
good  pleasure  ?  to  do  its  best  to  strike  and  hurt,  because  com- 
mands were  not  obeyed,  which  had  been  obeyed  to  its  hurt? 
The  weakness  then  of  infant  limbs,  not  its  will,  is  its  inno- 
cence. Myself  have  seen  and  known  even  a  baby  envious; 
it  could  not  speak,  yet  it  turned  pale  and  looked  bitterly 
on  its  foster-brother.  Who  knows  not  this?  Mothers  and 
nurses  tell  you,  that  they  allay  these  things  by  I  know  not 
what  remedies.  Is  that  too  innocence,  when  the  fountain  of 
milk  is  flowing  in  rich  abundance,  not  to  endure  one  to  share 
it,  though  in  extremest  need,  and  whose  very  life  as  yet 
depends  thereon  ?  We  bear  gently  with  all  this,  not  as  being 
no  or  slight  evils,  but  because  they  will  disappear  as  years 
increase;  for,  though  tolerated  now,  the  very  same  tempers 
are  utterly  intolerable  when  found  in  riper  years. 

Thou,  then,  O  Lord  my  God,  who  gavest  life  to  this  my  in- 
fancy, furnishing  thus  with  senses  (as  we  see)  the  frame  Thou 
gavest,  compacting  its  limbs,  ornamenting  its  proportions, 
and,  for  its  general  good  and  safety,  implanting  in  it  all  vital 

A.  V.  1—17 


258  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

functions,  Thou  coramandest  me  to  praise  Thee  in  these 
things,  to  confess  unto  Thee,  and  sing  unto  Thy  name,  Thou 
most  Highest.  For  Thou  art  God,  Almighty  and  Good,  even 
hadst  Thou  done  nought  but  only  this,  which  none  could  do 
but  Thou :  whose  Unity  is  the  mold  of  all  things ;  who  out 
of  Thy  own  fairness  makest  all  things  fair;  and  orderest  all 
things  by  Thy  law.  This  age  then,  Lord,  whereof  I  have 
no  remembrance,  which  I  take  on  others'  word,  and  guess 
from  other  infants  that  I  have  passed,  true  though  the  guess 
be,  I  am  yet  loth  to  count  in  this  life  of  mine  which  I  live 
in  this  world.  For  no  less  than  that  which  I  spent  in  my 
mother's  womb,  is  it  hid  from  me  in  the  shadows  of  forget- 
fulness.  But  if  I  was  shapen  in  iniquity,  and  in  sin  did  my 
mother  conceive  me,  where,  I  beseech  Thee,  O  my  God,  where, 
Lord,  or  when,  was  I  Thy  servant  guiltless?  But,  lo!  that 
period  I  pass  by;  and  what  have  I  now  to  do  with  that,  of 
which  I  can  recall  no  vestige  ? 

Passing  hence  from  infancy,  I  came  to  boyhood,  or  rather 
it  came  to  me,  displacing  infancy.  Nor  did  that  depart, — 
(for  whither  went  it?) — and  yet  it  was  no  more.  For  I 
was  no  longer  a  speechless  infant,  but  a  speaking  boy.  This 
I  remember ;  and  have  since  observed  how  I  learned  to  speak. 
It  was  not  that  my  elders  taught  me  words  (as,  soon  after, 
other  learning)  in  any  set  method;  but  I,  longing  by  cries 
and  broken  accents  and  various  motions  of  my  limbs  to  ex- 
press my  thoughts,  that  so  I  might  have  my  will,  and  yet  un- 
able to  express  all  I  willed,  or  to  whom  I  willed,  did  myself, 
by  the  understanding  which  Thou,  my  God,  gavest  me, 
practice  the  sounds  in  my  memory.  When  they  named  any 
thing,  and  as  they  spoke  turned  towards  it,  I  saw  and  re- 
membered that  they  called  what  they  would  point  out,  by  the 
name  they  uttered.  And  that  they  meant  this  thing  and 
no  other,  was  plain  from  the  motion  of  their  body,  the  natural 
language,  as  it  were,  of  all  nations,  expressed  by  the 
countenance,  glances  of  the  eye,  gestures  of  the  limbs,  and 
tones  of  the  voice,  indicating  the  affections  of  the  mind, 
as  it  pursues,  possesses,  rejects,  or  shuns.  And  thus  by  con- 
stantly hearing  words,  as  they  occurred  in  various  sentences, 
I  collected  gradually  for  what  they  stood ;  and  having  broken 
in  my  mouth  to  these  signs,  I  thereby  gave  utterance  to  my 


SAINT  AUGUSTINE  259 

will.  Thus  I  exchanged  with  those  about  me  these  cur- 
rent signs  of  our  wills,  and  so  launched  deeper  into  the 
stormy  intercourse  of  human  life,  yet  depending  on  parental 
authority  and  the  beck  of  elders. 

0  God  my  God,  what  miseries  and  mockeries  did  I  now 
experience,  when  obedience  to  my  teachers  was  proposed  to 
me,  as  proper  in  a  boy,  in  order  that  in  this  world  I  might 
prosper,  and  excel  in  tongue-science,  which  should  serve  to 
the  "praise  of  men,"  and  to  deceitful  riches.  Next  I  was 
put  to  school  to  get  learning,  in  which  I  (poor  wretch)  knew 
not  what  use  there  was;  and  yet,  if  idle  in  learning,  I  was 
beaten.  For  this  was  judged  right  by  our  forefathers;  and 
many,  passing  the  same  course  before  us,  framed  for  us 
weary  paths,  through  which  we  were  fain  to  pass ;  multiplying 
toil  and  grief  upon  the  sons  of  Adam.  But,  Lord,  we  found 
that  men  called  upon  Thee,  and  we  learnt  from  them  to 
think  of  Thee  (according  to  our  powers)  as  of  some  great 
One,  who,  though  hidden  from  our  senses,  couldst  hear  and 
help  us.  For  so  I  began,  as  a  boy,  to  pray  to  Thee,  my  aid 
and  refuge;  and  broke  the  fetters  of  my  tongue  to  call  on 
Thee,  praying  Thee,  though  small,  yet  with  no  small  earnest- 
ness, that  I  might  not  be  beaten  at  school.  And  when  Thou 
heardest  me  not,  (not  thereby  giving  me  over  to  folly,)  my 
elders,  yea,  my  very  parents,  who  yet  wished  me  no  ill, 
mocked  my  stripes,  my  then  great  and  grievous  ill. 

Is  there,  Lord,  any  of  soul  so  great,  and  cleaving  to  Thee 
with  so  intense  affection,  (for  a  sort  of  stupidity  will  in  a 
way  do  it)  ;  but  is  there  any  one,  who,  from  cleaving  de- 
voutly to  Thee,  is  endued  with  so  great  a  spirit,  that  he 
can  think  as  lightly  of  the  racks  and  hooks  and  other  tor- 
ments, (against  which,  throughout  all  lands,  men  call  on  Thee 
with  extreme  dread,)  mocking  at  those  by  whom  they  are 
feared  most  bitterly,  as  our  parents  mocked  the  torments 
which  we  suffered  in  boyhood  from  our  masters?  For  we 
feared  not  our  torments  less;  nor  prayed  we  less  to  Thee  to 
escape  them.  And  yet  we  sinned,  in  writing  or  reading  or 
studying  less  than  was  exacted  of  us.  For  we  wanted  not, 
O  Lord,  memory  or  capacity,  whereof  Thy  will  gave  enough 
for  our  age ;  but  our  sole  delight  was  play ;  and  for  this 
we  were  punished  by  those  who  yet  themselves  were  doing 


260  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

the  like.  But  elder  folks'  idleness  is  called  "business";  that 
of  boys,  being  really  the  same,  is  punished  by  those  elders; 
and  none  commiserates  either  boys  or  men.  For  will  any  of 
sound  discretion  approve  of  my  being  beaten  as  a  boy,  be- 
cause, by  playing  at  ball,  I  made  less  progress  in  studies 
which  I  was  to  learn,  only  that,  as  a  man,  I  might  play  more 
unbeseemingly  ?  And  what  else  did  he,  who  beat  me  ?  who,  if 
worsted  in  some  trifling  discussion  with  his  fellow-tutor,  was 
more  embittered  and  jealous  than  I,  when  beaten  at  ball  by  a 
play-fellow  ? 

And  yet,  I  sinned  herein,  0  Lord  God,  the  Creator  and 
Disposer  of  all  things  in  nature,  of  sin  the  Disposer  only, 
O  Lord  my  God,  I  sinned  in  transgressing  the  commands 
of  my  parents  and  those  of  my  masters.  For  what  they,  with 
whatever  motive,  would  have  me  learn,  I  might  afterward 
have  put  to  good  use.  For  I  disobeyed,  not  from  a  better 
choice,  but  from  love  of  play,  loving  the  pride  of  victory 
in  my  contests,  and  to  have  my  ears  tickled  with  lying  fables, 
that  they  might  itch  the  more;  the  same  curiosity  flashing 
from  my  eyes  more  and  more,  for  the  shows  and  games  of  my 
elders.  Yet  those  who  give  these  shows  are  in  such  esteem, 
that  almost  all  wish  the  same  for  their  children,  and  yet 
are  very  willing  that  they  should  be  beaten,  if  those  very 
games  detain  them  from  the  studies,  whereby  they  would  have 
them  attain  to  be  the  givers  of  them.  Look  with  pity,  Lord, 
on  these  things,  and  deliver  us  who  call  upon  Thee  now; 
deliver  those  too  who  call  not  on  Thee  yet,  that  they  may 
call  on  Thee,  and  Thou  mayest  deliver  them. 

As  a  boy,  then,  I  had  already  heard  of  an  eternal  life, 
promised  us  through  the  humility  of  the  Lord  our  God 
stooping  to  our  pride ;  and  even  from  the  womb  of  my  mother, 
who  greatly  hoped  in  Thee,  I  was  sealed  with  the  mark  of 
His  cross  and  salted  with  His  salt.4  Thou  sawest,  Lord,  how 
while  yet  a  boy,  being  seized  on  a  time  with  sudden  op- 
pression of  the  stomach,  and  like  near  to  death — Thou  saw- 
est, my  God,  (for  Thou  wert  my  keeper,)  with  what  eagerness 
and  what  faith  I  sought,  from  the  pious  care  of  my  mother 

*  A  rite  in  the  Western  Churches,  on  admission  as  a  Catechumen,  pre- 
vious to  Baptism,  denoting  the  purity  and  uncorruptedness  and  discre- 
tion required  of  Christians. 


SAINT  AUGUSTINE  261 

and  Thy  Church,  the  mother  of  us  all,  the  baptism  of  Thy 
Christ  my  God  and  Lord.  Whereupon  the  mother  of  my 
flesh,  being  much  troubled,  (since,  with  a  heart  pure  in  Thy 
faith,  she  even  more  lovingly  travailed  in  birth  of  my  salva- 
tion,) would  in  eager  haste  have  provided  for  my  consecra- 
tion and  cleansing  by  the  healthgiving  sacraments,  confessing 
Thee,  Lord  Jesus,  for  the  remission  of  sins,  unless  I  had 
suddenly  recovered.  And  so,  as  if  I  must  needs  be  again 
polluted  should  I  live,  my  cleansing  was  deferred,  because 
the  defilements  of  sin  would,  after  that  washing,  bring 
greater  and  more  perilous  guilt.  I  then  already  believed ;  and 
my  mother,,  and  the  whole  household,  except  my  father :  yet 
did  not  he  prevail  over  the  power  of  my  mother's  piety  in 
me,  that  as  he  did  not  yet  believe,  so  neither  should  I.  For 
it  was  her  earnest  care,  that  Thou  my  God,  rather  than  he, 
shouldest  be  my  father;  and  in  this  Thou  didst  aid  her  to 
prevail  over  her  husband,  whom  she,  the  better,  obeyed, 
therein  also  obeying  Thee,  who  hast  so  commanded. 

I  beseech  Thee,  my  God,  I  would  fain  know,  if  so  Thou 
wiliest,  for  what  purpose  my  baptism  was  then  deferred? 
Was  it  for  my  good  that  the  rein  was  laid  loose,  as  it  were, 
upon  me,  for  me  to  sin?  or  was  it  not  laid  loose?  If  not, 
why  does  it  still  echo  in  our  ears  on  all  sides,  "Let  him 
alone,  let  him  do  as  he  will,  for  he  is  not  yet  baptized?" 
but  as  to  bodily  health,  no  one  says,  "Let  him  be  worse 
wounded,  for  he  is  not  yet  healed."  How  much  better 
then,  had  I  been  at  once  healed;  and  then,  by  my  friends' 
diligence  and  my  own,  my  soul's  recovered  health  had  been 
kept  safe  in  Thy  keeping  who  gavest  it.  Better  truly.  But 
how  many  and  great  waves  of  temptation  seemed  to  hang 
over  me  after  my  boyhood !  These  my  mother  foresaw ;  and 
preferred  to  expose  to  them  the  clay  whence  I  might  after- 
wards be  molded,  than  the  very  cast,  when  made. 

In  boyhood  itself,  however,  (so  much  less  dreaded  for 
me  than  youth,)  I  loved  not  study,  and  hated  to  be  forced 
to  it.  Yet  I  was  forced ;  and  this  was  well  done  towards 
me,  but  I  did  not  well ;  for,  unless  forced,  I  had  not  learnt. 
But  no  one  doth  well  against  his  will,  even  though  what  he 
doth,  be  well.  Yet  neither  did  they  well  who  forced  me, 
but  what  was  well  came  to  me  from  Thee,  my  God.  For 


262  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

they  were  regardless  how  I  should  employ  what  they  forced 
me  to  learn,  except  to  satiate  the  insatiate  desires  of  a 
wealthy  beggary,  and  a  shameful  glory.  But  Thou,  by 
whom  the  very  hairs  of  our  head  are  numbered,  didst  use 
for  my  good  the  error  of  all  who  urged  me  to  learn ;  and  my 
own,  who  would  not  learn,  Thou  didst  use  for  my  punish- 
ment— a  fit  penalty  for  one,  so  small  a  boy  and  so  great  a 
sinner.  So  by  those  who  did  not  well,  Thou  didst  well  for 
me ;  and  by  my  own  sin  Thou  didst  justly  punish  me.  For 
Thou  hast  commanded,  and  so  it  is,  that  every  inordinate 
affection  should  be  its  own  punishment. 

But  why  did  I  so  much  hate  the  Greek,  which  I  studied 
as  a  boy  ?  I  do  not  yet  fully  know.  For  the  Latin  I  loved ; 
not  what  my  first  masters,  but  what  the  so-called  grammarians 
taught  me.  For  those  first  lessons,  reading,  writing,  and 
arithmetic,  I  thought  as  great  a  burden  and  penalty  as  any 
Greek.  And  yet  whence  was  this  too,  but  from  the  sin  and 
vanity  of  this  life,  because  /  was  flesh,  and  a  breath  that 
passeth  away  and  cometh  not  again?  For  those  first  lessons 
were  better  certainly,  because  more  certain ;  by  them  I  ob- 
tained, and  still  retain,  the  power  of  reading  what  I  find 
written,  and  myself  writing  what  I  will ;  whereas  in  the 
others,  I  was  forced  to  learn  the  wanderings  of  one  JEneas, 
forgetful  of  my  own,  and  to  weep  for  dead  Dido,  because  she 
killed  herself  for  love ;  the  while,  with  dry  eyes,  I  endured  my 
miserable  self  dying  among  these  things,  far  from  Thee,  0 
God  my  life. 

For  what  more  miserable  than  a  miserable  being  who  com- 
miserates not  himself;  weeping  the  death  of  Dido  for  love 
to  yEneas,  but  weeping  not  his  own  death  for  want  of  love 
to  Thee,  O  God.  Thou  light  of  my  heart,  Thou  bread  of  my 
inmost  soul,  Thou  Power  who  givest  vigor  to  my  mind, 
who  quickenest  my  thoughts,  I  loved  Thee  not.  I  committed 
fornication  against  Thee,  and  all  around  me  thus  fornicating 
there  echoed  "Well  done!  well  done!"  for  the  friendship  of 
this  world  is  fornication  against  Thee;  and  "Well  done! 
well  done!"  echoes  on  till  one  is  ashamed  not  to  be  thus  a 
man.  And  all  this  I  wept  not,  I  who  wept  for  Dido  slain,  and 
"seeking  by  the  sword  a  stroke  and  wound  extreme,"  my- 
self seeking  the  while  a  worse  extreme,  the  extremest  and 


SAINT  AUGUSTINE  263 

lowest  of  Thy  creatures,  having  forsaken  Thee,  earth  passing 
into  the  earth.  And  if  forbid  to  read  all  this,  I  was  grieved 
that  I  might  not  read  what  grieved  me.  Madness  like  this 
is  thought  a  higher  and  a  richer  learning,  than  that  by  which 
I  learned  to  read  and  write. 

But  now,  my  God,  cry  Thou  aloud  in  my  soul;  and  let 
Thy  truth  tell  me,  "Not  so,  not  so.  Far  better  was  that 
first  study."  For,  lo,  I  would  readily  forget  the  wanderings 
of  ^Eneas  and  all  the  rest,  rather  than  how  to  read  and 
write.  But  over  the  entrance  of  the  Grammar  School  is  a 
vail 5  drawn !  true ;  yet  is  this  not  so  much  an  emblem  of 
aught  recondite,  as  a  cloak  of  error.  Let  not  those,  whom 
I  no  longer  fear,  cry  out  against  me,  while  I  confess  to  Thee, 
my  God,  whatever  my  soul  will,  and  acquiesce  in  the  con- 
demnation of  my  evil  ways,  that  I  may  love  Thy  good  ways. 
Let  not  either  buyers  or  sellers  of  grammar-learning  cry  out 
against  me.  For  if  I  question  them  whether  it  be  true,  that 
^Eneas  came  on  a  time  to  Carthage,  as  the  Poet  tells,  the 
less  learned  will  reply  that  they  know  not,  the  more  learned 
that  he  never  did.  But  should  I  ask  with  what  letters  the 
name  "^Eneas"  is  written,  every  one  who  has  learnt  this 
will  answer  me  aright,  as  to  the  signs  which  men  have  con- 
ventionally settled.  If,  again,  I  should  ask,  which  might  be 
forgotten  with  least  detriment  to  the  concerns  of  life,  reading 
and  writing  or  these  poetic  fictions,  who  does  not  foresee 
what  all  must  answer  who  have  not  wholly  forgotten  them- 
selves? I  sinned,  then,  when  as  a  boy  I  preferred  those 
empty  to  those  more  profitable  studies,  or  rather  loved  the 
one  and  hated  the  other.  "One  and  one,  two;"  "two  and 
two,  four ; ' '  this  was  to  me  a  hateful  sing-song :  ' '  the  wooden 
horse  lined  with  armed  men,"  and  "the  burning  of  Troy," 
and  "Creusa's  shade  and  sad  similitude,"  were  the  choice 
spectacle  of  my  vanity. 

Why  then  did  I  hate  the  Greek  classics,  which  have  the 
like  tales?  For  Homer  also  curiously  wove  the  like  fictions, 

8  The  ' '  vail ' '  was  an  emblem  of  honor,  used  in  places  of  worship,  and 
subsequently  in  courts  of  law,  Emperors '  palaces,  and  even  private  houses. 
That  between  the  vestibule,  or  proscholium,  and  the  school  itself,  besides 
being  a  mark  of  dignity,  may,  as  S.  Aug.  perhaps  implies,  have  been 
intended  to  denote  the  hidden  mysteries  taught  therein,  and  that  the 
mass  of  mankind  were  not  fit  hearers  of  truth. 


264  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

and  is  most  sweetly-vain,  yet  was  he  bitter  to  my  boyish 
taste.  And  so  I  suppose  would  Virgil  be  to  Grecian  children, 
when  forced  to  learn  him  as  I  was  Homer.  Difficulty,  in 
truth,  the  difficulty  of  a  foreign  tongue,  dashed,  as  it  were, 
with  gall  all  the  sweetness  of  Grecian  fable.  For  not  one 
word  of  it  did  I  understand,  and  to  make  me  understand  I 
was  urged  vehemently  with  cruel  threats  and  punishments. 
Time  was  also,  (as  an  infant.)  I  knew  no  Latin;  but  this  I 
learned  without  fear  of  suffering,  by  mere  observation,  amid 
the  caresses  of  my  nursery  and  jests  of  friends,  smiling  and 
sportively  encouraging  me.  This  I  learned  without  any 
pressure  of  punishment  to  urge  me  on,  for  my  heart  urged 
me  to  give  birth  to  its  conceptions,  which  I  could  only  do 
by  learning  words  not  of  those  who  taught,  but  of  those  who 
talked  with  me;  in  whose  ears  also  I  gave  birth  to  the 
thoughts,  whatever  I  conceived.  No  doubt  then,  that  a  free 
curiosity  has  more  force  in  our  learning  these  things,  than  a 
frightful  enforcement.  Only  this  enforcement  restrains  the 
rovings  of  that  freedom,  through  Thy  laws,  O  my  God,  Thy 
laws,  from  the  master's  cane  to  the  martyr's  trials,  being 
able  to  temper  for  us  a  wholesome  bitter,  recalling  us  to  Thy- 
self from  that  deadly  pleasure  which  lures  us  from  Thee. 

Hear,  Lord,  my  prayer;  let  not  my  soul  faint  under  Thy 
discipline,  nor  let  me  faint  in  confessing  unto  Thee  all  Thy 
mercies,  whereby  Thou  hast  drawn  me  out  of  all  my  most 
evil  ways,  that  Thou  mightest  become  a  delight  to  me  above 
all  the  allurements  which  I  once  pursued ;  that  I  may  most 
entirely  love  Thee,  and  clasp  Thy  hand  with  all  my  affections, 
and  Thou  mayest  yet  rescue  me  from  every  temptation,  even 
unto  the  end.  For,  lo,  0  Lord,  my  King  and  my  God,  for  Thy 
service  be  whatever  useful  thing  my  childhood  learned ;  for 
Thy  service,  that  I  speak — write — read — reckon.  For  Thou 
didst  grant  me  Thy  discipline,  while  I  was  learning  vanities ; 
and  my  sin  of  delighting  in  those  vanities  Thou  hast  forgiven. 
In  them,  indeed,  I  learnt  many  a  useful  word,  but  these  may 
as  well  be  learnt  in  things  not  vain ;  and  that  is  the  safe 
path  for  the  steps  of  youth. 

But  woe  is  thce,  thou  torrent  of  human  custom !  Who 
shall  stand  against  thee?  How  long  shalt  thou  not  be  dried 
up?  How  long  roll  the  sons  of  Eve  into  that  huge  and 


SAINT  AUGUSTINE  265 

hideous  ocean,  which  even  they  scarcely  overpass  who  climb 
the  cross  ?  Did  not  I  read  in  thee  of  Jove  the  thunderer  and 
the  adulterer  ?  Both,  doubtless,  he  could  not  be ;  but  so  the 
feigned  thunder  might  countenance  and  pander  to  real 
adultery.  And  now  which  of  our  gowned  masters  lends  a 
sober  ear  to  one  who  from  their  own  school  cries  out,  ' '  These 
were  Homer's  fictions,  transferring  things  human  to  the 
gods;  would  he  had  brought  down  things  divine  to  us!"  Yet 
more  truly  had  he  said,  "These  are  indeed  his  fictions;  but 
attributing  a  divine  nature  to  wicked  men,  that  crimes  might 
be  no  longer  crimes,  and  whoso  commits  them  might  seem  to 
imitate  not  abandoned  men,  but  the  celestial  gods." 

And  yet,  thou  hellish  torrent,  into  thee  are  cast  the  sons 
of  men  with  rich  rewards,  for  compassing  such  learning ;  and 
a  great  solemnity  is  made  of  it,  when  this  is  going  on  in 
the  forum,  within  sight  of  laws  appointing  a  salary  beside 
the  scholar's  payments;  and  thou  lashest  thy  rocks  and  roar- 
est,  "Hence  words  are  learnt;  hence  eloquence;  most  neces- 
sary to  gain  your  ends,  or  maintain  opinions."  As  if  we 
should  have  never  known  such  words  as  "golden  shower," 
"lap,"  "beguile,"  "temples  of  the  heavens,"  or  others  in 
that  passage,  unless  Terence  had  brought  a  lewd  youth  upon 
the  stage,  setting  up  Jupiter  as  his  example  of  seduction. 

Viewing  a  picture,  where  the  tale  was  drawn, 
Of  Jove's  descending  in  a  golden  shower 
To  Danae  's  lap,  a  woman  to  beguile. 

And  then  mark  how  he  excites  himself  to  lust  as  by  celestial 
authority ; 

And  what  God  ?    Great  Jove, 

Who  shakes  heav'n's  highest  temples  with  his  thunder, 
And  I,  poor  mortal  man,  not  do  the  same! 
I  did  it,  and  with  all  my  heart  I  did  it. 

Not  one  whit  more  easily  are  the  words  learnt  for  all  this 
vileness;  but  by  their  means  the  vileness  is  committed  with 
less  shame.  Not  that  I  blame  the  words,  being,  as  it  were, 
choice  and  precious  vessels;  but  that  wine  of  error  which 
is  drunk  to  us  in  them  by  intoxicated  teachers;  and  if  we, 
too,  drink  not,  we  are  beaten,  and  have  no  sober  judge  to 


266  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

whom  we  may  appeal.  Yet,  O  my  God,  (in  whose  presence 
I  now  without  hurt  may  remember  this,)  all  this  unhappily 
I  learnt  willingly  with  great  delight,  and  for  this  was  pro- 
nounced a  hopeful  boy. 

Bear  with  me,  my  God,  while  I  say  somewhat  of  my  wit, 
Thy  gift,  and  on  what  dotages  I  wasted  it.  For  a  task  was 
set  me,  troublesome  enough  to  my  soul,  upon  terms  of  praise 
or  shame,  and  fear  of  stripes,  to  speak  the  words  of  Juno,  as 
she  raged  and  mourned  that  she  could  not 

This  Trojan  prince  from  Latium  turn. 

Which  words  I  had  heard  that  Juno  never  uttered ;  but  we 
were  forced  to  go  astray  in  the  footsteps  of  these  poetic  fic- 
tions, and  to  say  in  prose  much  what  he  expressed  in  verse. 
And  his  speaking  was  most  applauded,  in  whom  the  passions 
of  rage  and  grief  were  most  preeminent,  and  clothed  in  the 
most  fitting  language,  maintaining  the  dignity  of  the  char- 
acter. What  is  it  to  me,  O  my  true  life,  my  God,  that  my 
declamation  was  applauded  above  so  many  of  my  own  age 
and  class  ?  Is  not  all  this  smoke  and  wind  ?  And  was  there 
nothing  else  whereon  to  exercise  my  wit  and  tongue?  Thy 
praises,  Lord,  Thy  praises  might  have  stayed  the  yet  tender 
shoot  of  my  heart  by  the  prop  of  Thy  Scriptures;  so  had  it 
not  trailed  away  amid  these  empty  trifles,  a  defiled  prey  for 
the  fowls  of  the  air.  For  in  more  ways  than  one  do  men 
sacrifice  to  the  rebellious  angels. 

But  what  marvel  that  I  was  thus  carried  away  to  vanities, 
and  went  out  from  Thy  presence,  0  my  God,  when  men  were 
set  before  me  as  models,  who,  if  in  relating  some  action  of 
theirs,  in  itself  not  ill,  they  committed  some  barbarism  or 
solecism,  being  censured,  were  abashed ;  but  when  in  rich  and 
adorned  and  well-ordered  discourse  they  related  their  own 
disordered  life,  being  bepraised,  they  gloried?  These  things 
Thou  seest,  Lord,  and  boldest  Thy  peace;  long-suffering,  and 
plenteous  in  mercy  and  truth.  Wilt  Thou  hold  Thy  peace 
for  ever?  And  even  now  Thou  drawest  out  of  this  horrible 
gulf  the  soul  that  seeketh  Thee,  that  thirsteth  for  Thy  pleas- 
ures, whose  heart  saith  unto  Thee,  I  have  sought  Thy  face; 
Thy  face,  Lord,  will  I  seek.  For  darkened  affections  is  re- 
moval from  Thee.  For  it  is  not  by  our  feet,  or  change  of 


SAINT  AUGUSTINE  267 

place,  that  men  leave  Thee,  or  return  unto  Thee.  Or  did 
that  Thy  younger  son  look  out  for  horses  or  chariots,  or  ships, 
fly  with  visible  wings,  or  journey  by  the  motion  of  his  limbs, 
that  he  might  in  a  far  country  waste  in  riotous  living  all 
Thou  gavest  at  his  departure?  A  loving  Father,  when  Thou 
gavest,  and  more  loving  unto  him,  when  he  returned  empty. 
So  then  in  lustful,  that  is,  in  darkened  affections,  is  the 
true  distance  from  Thy  face. 

Behold,  O  Lord  God,  yea,  behold  patiently  as  Thou  art 
wont,  how  carefully  the  sons  of  men  observe  the  covenanted 
rules  of  letters  and  syllables  received  from  those  who  spake 
before  them,  neglecting  the  eternal  covenant  of  everlasting 
salvation  received  from  Thee.  Insomuch,  that  a  teacher  or 
learner  of  the  hereditary  laws  of  pronunciation  will  more 
offend  men,  by  speaking  without  the  aspirate,  of  a  "uman 
being,"  in  despite  of  the  laws  of  grammar,  than  if  he,  a 
"human  being,"  hate  a  "human  being"  in  despite  of  Thine. 
As  if  any  enemy  could  be  more  hurtful  than  the  hatred 
with  which  he  is  incensed  against  him ;  or  could  wound  more 
deeply  him  whom  he  persecutes,  than  he  wounds  his  own  soul 
by  his  enmity.  Assuredly  no  science  of  letters  can  be  so 
innate  as  the  record  of  conscience,  "that  he  is  doing  to 
another  what  from  another  he  would  be  loth  to  suffer." 
How  deep  are  Thy  ways,  0  God,  Thou  only  great,  that 
sittest  silent  on  high  and  by  an  unwearied  law  dispensing 
penal  blindness  to  lawless  desires.  In  quest  of  the  fame  of 
eloquence,  a  man  standing  before  a  human  judge,  surrounded 
by  a  human  throng,  declaiming  against  his  enemy  with  fiercest 
hatred,  will  take  heed  most  watchfully,  lest,  by  an  error  of 
the  tongue,  he  murder  the  word  "human-being;"  but  takes 
no  heed,  lest,  through  the  fury  of  his  spirit,  he  murder  the 
real  human  being. 

This  was  the  world  at  whose  gate  unhappy  I  lay  in  my 
boyhood ;  this  the  stage,  where  I  had  feared  more  to  commit 
a  barbarism,  than  having  committed  one,  to  envy  those  who 
had  not.  These  things  I  speak  and  confess  to  Thee,  my  God ; 
for  which  I  had  praise  from  them,  whom  I  then  thought  it 
all  virtue  to  please.  For  I  saw  not  the  abyss  of  vileness, 
wherein  /  was  cast  away  from  Thine  eyes.  Before  them 
what  more  foul  than  I  was  already,  displeasing  even  such  as 


268  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

myself  ?  with  innumerable  lies  deceiving  my  tutor,  my  masters, 
my  parents,  from  love  of  play,  eagerness  to  see  vain  shows, 
and  restlessness  to  imitate  them !  Thefts  also  I  committed, 
from  my  parents'  cellar  and  table,  enslaved  by  greediness, 
or  that  I  might  have  to  give  to  boys,  who  sold  me  their  play, 
which  all  the  while  they  liked  no  less  than  I.  In  this  play, 
too,  I  often  sought  unfair  conquests,  conquered  myself  mean- 
while by  vain  desire  of  preeminence.  And  what  could  I  so 
ill  endure,  or,  when  I  detected  it,  upbraided  I  so  fiercely,  as 
that  I  was  doing  to  others?  and  for  which  if,  detected,  I 
was  upbraided,  I  chose  rather  to  quarrel,  than  to  yield.  And 
is  this  the  innocence  of  boyhood?  Not  so,  Lord,  not  so; 
I  cry  Thy  mercy,  0  my  God.  For  these  very  sins,  as  riper 
years  succeed,  these  very  sins  are  transferred  from  tutors  and 
masters,  from  nuts  and  balls  and  sparrows,  to  magistrates  and 
kings,  to  gold  and  manors  and  slaves,  just  as  severer  punish- 
ments displace  the  cane.  It  was  the  low  stature  then  of 
childhood,  which  Thou  our  King  didst  commend  as  an  em- 
blem of  lowliness,  when  Thou  saidst,  Of  such  is  the  kingdom 
of  heaven. 

Yet,  Lord,  to  Thee,  the  Creator  and  Governor  of  the  uni- 
verse, most  excellent  and  most  good,  thanks  were  due  to  Thee 
our  God,  even  hadst  Thou  destined  for  me  boyhood  only. 
For  even  then  I  was,  I  lived,  and  felt;  and  had  an  im- 
planted providence  over  my  own  well-being, — a  trace  of  that 
mysterious  Unity,  whence  I  was  derived; — I  guarded  by 
the  inward  sense  the  entireness  of  my  senses,  and  in  these 
minute  pursuits,  and  in  my  thoughts  on  things  minute,  I 
learnt  to  delight  in  truth,  I  hated  to  be  deceived,  had  a 
vigorous  memory,  was  gifted  with  speech,  was  soothed  by 
friendship,  avoided  pain,  baseness,  ignorance.  In  so  small  a 
creature,  what  was  not  wonderful,  not  admirable?  But  all 
are  gifts  of  my  God ;  it  was  not  I,  who  gave  them  me ;  and 
good  these  are,  and  these  together  are  myself.  Good,  then, 
is  He  that  made  me,  and  He  is  my  good ;  and  before  Him 
will  I  exult  for  every  good  which  of  a  boy  I  had.  For  it  was 
my  sin,  that  not  in  Him,  but  in  His  creatures — myself  and 
others — I  sought  for  pleasures,  sublimities,  truths,  and  so  fell 
headlong  into  sorrows,  confusions,  errors.  Thanks  be  to  Thee, 
my  joy  and  my  glory  and  my  confidence,  my  God,  thanks 


SAINT  AUGUSTINE  269 

be  to  Thee  for  Thy  gifts;  but  do  Thou  preserve  them  to  me. 
For  so  wilt  Thou  preserve  me,  and  those  things  shall  be  en- 
larged and  perfected,  which  Thou  hast  given  me,  and  I  my- 
self shall  be  with  Thee,  since  even  to  be  Thou  hast  given  me. 

BOOK  II 

I  WILL  now  call  to  mind  my  past  foulness,  and  the  carnal 
corruptions  of  my  soul:  not  because  I  love  them,  but  that  I 
may  love  Thee,  O  my  God.  For  love  of  Thy  love  I  do  it; 
reviewing  my  most  wicked  ways  in  the  very  bitterness  of  my 
remembrance,  that  Thou  mayest  grow  sweet  unto  me;  (Thou 
sweetness  never  failing,  Thou  blissful  and  assured  sweetness;) 
and  gathering  me  again  out  of  that  my  dissipation,  wherein 
I  was  torn  piecemeal,  while  turned  from  Thee,  the  One  Good, 
I  lost  myself  among  a  multiplicity  of  things.  For  I  even 
burnt  in  my  youth  heretofore,  to  be  satiated  in  things  below ; 
and  I  dared  to  grow  wild  again,  with  these  various  and 
shadowy  loves:  my  beauty  consumed  away,  and  I  stank  in 
Thine  eyes;  pleasing  myself,  and  desirous  to  please  in  the 
eyes  of  men. 

And  what  was  it  that  I  delighted  in,  but  to  love,  and  be 
beloved?  but  I  kept  not  the  measure  of  love,  of  mind  to 
mind,  friendship's  bright  boundary;  but  out  of  the  muddy 
concupiscence  of  the  flesh,  and  the  bubblings  of  youth,  mists 
fumed  up  which  beclouded  and  overcast  my  heart,  that  I 
could  not  discern  the  clear  brightness  of  love,  from  the  fog 
of  lustfulness.  Both  did  confusedly  boil  in  me,  and  hurried 
my  unstayed  youth  over  the  precipice  of  unholy  desires,  and 
sunk  me  in  a  gulf  of  flagitiousnesses.  Thy  wrath  had  gathered 
over  me,  and  I  knew  it  not.  I  was  grown  deaf  by  the  clank- 
ing of  the  chain  of  my  mortality,  the  punishment  of  the 
pride  of  my  soul,  and  I  strayed  further  from  Thee,  and  Thou 
lettest  me  alone,  and  I  was  tossed  about,  and  wasted,  and  dis- 
sipated, and  I  boiled  over  in  my  fornications,  and  Thou 
heldest  Thy  peace,  O  Thou  my  tardy  joy !  Thou  then  heldest 
Thy  peace,  and  I  wandered  further  and  further  from  Thee, 
into  more  and  more  fruitless  seed-plots  of  sorrows,  with  a 
proud  dejectedness,  and  a  restless  weariness. 

Oh !  that  some  one  had  then  attempered  my  disorder,  and 
turned  to  account  the  fleeting  beauties  of  these,  the  extreme 


270  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

points  of  Thy  creation!  had  put  a  bound  to  their  pleasur- 
ableness,  that  so  the  tides  of  my  youth  might  have  cast  them- 
selves upon  the  marriage  shore,  if  they  could  not  be  calmed, 
and  kept  within  the  object  of  a  family,  as  Thy  law  pre- 
scribes, 0  Lord :  who  this  way  formest  the  offspring  of  this 
our  death,  being  able  with  a  gentle  hand  to  blunt  the 
thorns,  which  were  excluded  from  Thy  paradise?  For  Thy 
omnipotency  is  not  far  from  us,  even  when  we  be  far  from 
Thee.  Else  ought  I  more  watchfully  to  have  heeded  the  voice 
from  the  clouds;  Nevertheless  such  shall  have  trouble  in  the 
flesh,  but  I  spare  you.  And,  it  is  good  for  a  man  not  to 
touch  a  woman.  And,  he  that  is  unmarried  thinketh  of  the 
things  of  the  Lord,  how  he  may  please  the  Lord;  but  he  that 
is  married  careth  for  the  things  of  this  world,  how  he  may 
please  his  wife. 

To  these  words  I  should  have  listened  more  attentively, 
and  being  severed  for  the  kingdom  of  heaven's  sake,  had  more 
happily  awaited  Thy  embraces;  but  I,  poor  wretch,  foamed 
like  a  troubled  sea,  following  the  rushing  of  my  own  tide, 
forsaking  Thee,  and  exceeded  all  Thy  limits;  yet  I  escaped 
not  Thy  scourges.  For  what  mortal  can?  For  Thou  wert 
ever  with  me  mercifully  rigorous,  and  besprinkling  with 
most  bitter  alloy  all  my  unlawful  pleasures :  that  I  might  seek 
pleasures  without  alloy.  But  where  to  find  such,  I  could  not 
discover,  save  in  Thee,  0  Lord,  who  teachest  by  sorrow, 
and  woundest  us,  to  heal;  and  killest  us,  lest  we  die  from 
Thee.  "Where  was  I,  and  how  far  was  I  exiled  from  the 
delights  of  Thy  house,  in  that  sixteenth  year  of  the  age  of 
my  flesh,  when  the  madness  of  lust  (to  which  human  shame- 
lessness  giveth  free  license,  though  unlicensed  by  Thy  laws) 
took  the  rule  over  me,  and  I  resigned  myself  wholly  to  it? 
My  friends  meanwhile  took  no  care  by  marriage  to  save  my 
fall ;  their  only  care  was  that  I  should  learn  to  speak  ex- 
cellently, and  be  a  persuasive  orator. 

For  that  year  were  my  studies  intermitted :  whilst  after 
my  return  from  Madaura,  (a  neighbor  city,  whither  I  had 
journeyed  to  learn  grammar  and  rhetoric.)  the  expenses  for 
a  further  journey  to  Carthage  were  being  provided  for  me; 
and  that,  rather  by  the  resolution  than  the  means  of  my 
father,  who  was  but  a  poor  freeman  of  Thagaste.  To  whom 


SAINT  AUGUSTINE  271 

tell  I  this?  not  to  Thee,  my  God;  but  before  Thee  to  mine 
own  kind,  even  to  that  small  portion  of  mankind  as  may 
light  upon  these  writings  of  mine.  And  to  what  purpose? 
that  whosoever  reads  this,  may  think  out  of  what  depths 
we  are  to  cry  unto  Thee.  For  what  is  nearer  to  Thine  ears 
than  a  confessing  heart,  and  a  life  of  faith?  Who  did  not 
extol  my  father,  for  that  beyond  the  ability  of  his  means, 
he  would  furnish  his  son  with  all  necessaries  for  a  far 
journey  for  his  studies'  sake?  For  many  far  abler  citizens 
did  no  such  thing  for  their  children.  But  yet  this  same 
father  had  no  concern,  how  I  grew  towards  Thee,  or  how 
chaste  I  were;  so  that  I  were  but  copious  in  speech,  however 
barren  I  were  to  Thy  culture,  0  God,  who  art  the  only  true 
and  good  Lord  of  Thy  field,  my  heart. 

But  while  in  that  my  sixteenth  year  I  lived  with  my 
parents,  leaving  all  school  for  a  while,  (a  season  of  idleness 
being  interposed  through  the  narrowness  of  my  parents' 
fortunes,)  the  briers  of  unclean  desires  grew  rank  over  my 
head,  and  there  was  no  hand  to  root  them  out.  When 
that  my  father  saw  me  at  the  baths,  now  growing  toward  man- 
hood, and  endued  with  a  restless  youthfulness,  he,  as  already 
hence  anticipating  his  descendants,  gladly  told  it  to  my 
mother;  rejoicing  in  that  tumult  of  the  senses  wherein  the 
world  forgetteth  Thee  its  Creator,  and  becometh  enamored 
of  Thy  creature,  instead  of  Thyself,  through  the  fumes  of 
that  invisible  wine  of  its  self-will,  turning  aside  and  bowing 
down  to  the  very  basest  things.  But  in  my  mother's  breast 
Thou  hadst  already  begun  Thy  temple,  and  the  foundation 
of  Thy  holy  habitation,  whereas  my  father  was  as  yet  but  a 
catechumen,  and  that  but  recently.  She  then  was  startled 
with  an  holy  fear  and  trembling;  and  though  I  was  not  as 
yet  baptized,  feared  for  me  those  crooked  ways,  in  which 
they  walk,  who  turn  their  back  to  Thee,  and  not  their  face. 

Woe  is  me !  and  dare  I  say  that  Thou  heldest  Thy  peace,  O 
my  God,  while  I  wandered  further  from  Thee?  Didst  Thou 
then  indeed  hold  Thy  peace  to  me?  And  whose  but  Thine 
were  these  words  which  by  my  mother,  Thy  faithful  one, 
Thou  sangest  in  my  ears?  Nothing  whereof  sunk  into  my 
heart,  so  as  to  do  it.  For  she  wished,  and  I  remember  in 
private  with  great  anxiety  warned  me,  "not  to  commit  forni- 


272  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

cation;  but  especially  never  to  defile  another's  wife."  These 
seemed  to  me  womanish  advices,  which  I  should  blush  to 
obey.  But  they  were  Thine,  and  I  knew  it  not :  and  I  thought 
Thou  wert  silent,  and  that  it  was  she  who  spake;  by  whom 
Thou  wert  not  silent  unto  me;  and  in  her  wast  despised  by 
me,  her  son,  the  son  of  Thy  handmaid,  Thy  servant.  But  I 
knew  it  not;  and  ran  headlong  with  such  blindness,  that 
amongst  my  equals  I  was  ashamed  of  a  less  shamelessness, 
when  I  heard  them  boast  of  their  flagitiousness,  yea,  and 
the  more  boasting,  the  more  they  were  degraded :  and  I  took 
pleasure,  not  only  in  the  pleasure  of  the  deed,  but  in  the 
praise.  What  is  worthy  of  dispraise  but  Vice?  But  I  made 
myself  worse  than  I  was,  that  I  might  not  be  dispraised ;  and 
when  in  anything  I  had  not  sinned  as  the  abandoned  ones, 
I  would  say  that  I  had  done  what  I  had  not  done,  that  I 
might  not  seem  contemptible  in  proportion  as  I  was  innocent ; 
or  of  less  account,  the  more  chaste. 

Behold  with  what  companions  I  walked  the  streets  of 
Babylon,  and  wallowed  in  the  mire  thereof,  as  if  in  a  bed  of 
spices,  and  precious  ointments.  And  that  I  might  cleave  the 
faster  to  its  very  center,  the  invisible  enemy  trod  me  down, 
and  seduced  me,  for  that  I  was  easy  to  be  seduced.  Neither 
did  the  mother  of  my  flesh,  (who  had  now  fled  out  of  the 
center  of  Babylon,  yet  went  more  slowly  in  the  skirts 
thereof,)  as  she  advised  me  to  chastity,  so  heed  what  she 
had  heard  of  me  from  her  husband,  as  to  restrain  within 
the  bounds  of  conjugal  affection,  (if  it  could  not  be  pared 
away  to  the  quick,)  what  she  felt  to  be  pestilent  at  present, 
and  for  the  future  dangerous.  She  heeded  not  this,  for  she 
feared,  lest  a  wife  should  prove  a  clog  and  hindrance  to  my 
hopes.  Not  those  hopes  of  the  world  to  come,  which  my 
mother  reposed  in  Thee;  but  the  hope  of  learning,  which 
both  my  parents  were  too  desirous  I  should  attain;  my 
father,  because  he  had  next  to  no  thought  of  Thee,  and 
of  me  but  vain  conceits;  my  mother,  because  she  accounted 
that  those  usual  courses  of  learning  would  not  only  be  no 
hindrance,  but  even  some  furtherance  towards  attaining 
Thee.  For  this  I  conjecture,  recalling,  as  well  as  I  may,  the 
disposition  of  my  parents.  The  reins,  meantime,  were  slack- 
ened to  me,  beyond  all  temper  of  due  severity,  to  spend  my 


SAINT  AUGUSTINE  273 

time  in  sport,  yea,  even  unto  dissoluteness  in  whatsoever  I 
affected.  And  in  all  was  a  mist,  intercepting  from  me,  O  my 
God,  the  brightness  of  Thy  truth;  and  mine  iniquity  burst 
out  as  from  very  fatness. 

Theft  is  punished  by  Thy  law,  0  Lord,  and  the  law 
written  in  the  hearts  of  men,  which  iniquity  itself  effaces 
not.  For  what  thief  will  abide  a  thief?  not  even  a  rich 
thief,  one  stealing  through  want.  Yet  I  lusted  to  thieve, 
and  did  it,  compelled  by  no  hunger,  nor  poverty,  but  through 
a  cloyedness  of  welldoing,  and  a  pamperedness  of  iniquity. 
For  I  st9le  that,  of  which  I  had  enough,  and  much  better. 
Nor  cared  I  to  enjoy  what  I  stole,  but  joyed  in  the  theft 
and  sin  itself.  A  pear  tree  there  was  near  our  vineyard, 
laden  with  fruit,  tempting  neither  for  color  nor  taste.  To 
shake  and  rob  this,  some  lewd  young  fellows  of  us  went, 
late  one  night,  (having  according  to  our  pestilent  custom 
prolonged  our  sports  in  the  streets  till  then,)  and  took  huge 
loads,  not  for  our  eating,  but  to  fling  to  the  very  hogs,  having 
only  tasted  them.  And  this,  but  to  do,  what  we  liked  only, 
because  it  was  misliked.  Behold  my  heart,  O  God,  behold 
my  heart,  which  Thou  hadst  pity  upon  in  the  bottom  of  the 
bottomless  pit.  Now,  behold  let  my  heart  tell  Thee,  what  it 
sought  there,  that  I  should  be  gratuitously  evil,  having  no 
temptation  to  ill,  but  the  ill  itself.  It  was  foul,  and  I  loved 
it;  I  loved  to  perish,  I  loved  mine  own  fault,  not  that  for 
which  I  was  faulty,  but  my  fault  itself.  Foul  soul,  falling 
from  Thy  firmament  to  utter  destruction;  not  seeking  aught 
through  the  shame,  but  the  shame  itself! 

For  there  is  an  attractiveness  in  beautiful  bodies,  in  gold 
and  silver,  and  all  things;  and  in  bodily  touch,  sympathy 
hath  much  influence,  and  each  other  sense  hath  his  proper 
object  answerably  tempered.  Worldly  honor  hath  also  its 
grace,  and  the  power  of  overcoming,  and  of  mastery ;  whence 
springs  also  the  thirst  of  revenge.  But  yet,  to  obtain  all 
these,  we  may  not  depart  from  Thee,  0  Lord,  nor  decline  from 
Thy  law.  The  life  also  which  here  we  live  hath  its  own  en- 
chantment, through  a  certain  proportion  of  its  own,  and  a 
correspondence  with  all  things  beautiful  here  below.  Human 
friendship  also  is  endeared  with  a  sweet  tie,  by  reason  of 
the  unity  formed  of  many  souls.  Upon  occasion  of  all  these, 

A.  V.  1—18 


274  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

and  the  like,  is  sin  committed,  while  through  an  immoderate 
inclination  towards  these  goods  of  the  lowest  order,  the  better 
and  higher  are  forsaken, — Thou,  our  Lord  God,  Thy  truth, 
and  Thy  law.  For  these  lower  things  have  their  delights, 
but  not  like  my  God,  who  made  all  things;  for  in  Him  doth 
the  righteous  delight,  and  lie  is  the  joy  of  the  upright  in 
heart. 

"When,  then,  we  ask  why  a  crime  was  done,  we  believe  it  not, 
unless  it  appear  that  there  might  have  been  some  desire  of 
obtaining  some  of  those  which  we  called  lower  goods,  or  a 
fear  of  losing  them.  For  they  are  beautiful  and  comely ; 
although  compared  with  those  higher*and  beatific  goods,  they 
be  abject  and  low.  A  man  hath  murdered  another;  why?  he 
loved  his  wife  or  his  estate ;  or  would  rob  for  his  own  liveli- 
hood; or  feared  to  lose  some  such  thing  by  him;  or,  wronged, 
was  on  fire  to  be  revenged.  Would  any  commit  murder 
upon  no  cause,  delighted  simply  in  murdering?  Who  would 
believe  it  ?  For  as  for  that  furious  and  savage  man,  of  whom 
it  is  said  that  he  was  gratuitously  evil  and  cruel,  yet  is  the 
cause  assigned;1  "lest"  (saith  he)  "through  idleness  hand 
or  heart  should  grow  inactive."  And  to  what  end?  That, 
through  that  practice  of  guilt,  he  might,  having  taken  the 
city,  attain  to  honors,  empire,  riches,  and  be  freed  from  fear 
of  the  laws,  and  his  embarrassments  from  domestic  needs, 
and  consciousness  of  villanies.  So  then,  not  even  Catiline 
himself  loved  his  own  villanies,  but  something  else,  for  whose 
sake  he  did  them. 

What  then  did  wretched  I  so  love  in  thee,  thou  theft  of 
mine,  thou  deed  of  darkness,  in  that  sixteenth  year  of  my 
age?  Lovely  thou  wert  not,  because  thou  wert  theft.  But 
art  thou  anything,  that  thus  I  speak  to  thee?  Fair  were 
the  pears  we  stole,  because  they  were  Thy  creation,  Thou 
fairest  of  all,  Creator  of  all,  Thou  good  God ;  God,  the 
sovereign  good  and  my  true  good.  Fair  were  those  pears, 
but  not  them  did  my  wretched  soul  desire;  for  I  had  store  of 
better,  and  those  I  gathered,  only  that  I  might  steal.  For, 
when  gathered,  I  flung  them  away,  my  only  feast  therein  be- 
ing my  own  sin,  which  I  was  pleased  to  enjoy.  For  if  aught 
of  those  pears  came  within  my  mouth,  what  sweetened  it  was 

•Sallust.  dc  Bell.  Catil.  c.  9. 


SAINT  AUGUSTINE  275 

the  sin.  And  now,  0  Lord  my  God,  I  inquire  what  in  that 
theft  delighted  me ;  and  behold  it  hath  no  loveliness ;  I  mean 
not  such  loveliness  as  in  justice  and  wisdom ;  nor  such  as  is 
in  the  mind  and  memory,  and  senses,  and  animal  life  of  man ; 
nor  yet  as  the  stars  are  glorious  and  beautiful  in  their  orbs ; 
or  the  earth,  or  sea,  full  of  embryo-life,  replacing  by  its 
birth  that  which  decayeth ;  nay,  nor  even  that  false  and 
shadowy  beauty,  which  belongeth  to  deceiving  vices. 

For  so  doth  pride  imitate  exaltedness ;  whereas  Thou  Alone 
art  God  exalted  over  all.  Ambition,  what  seeks  it,  but  honors 
and  glory?  whereas  Thou  Alone  art  to  be  honored  above  all, 
and  glorious  for  evermt>re.  The  cruelty  of  the  great  would 
fain  be  feared;  but  who  is  to  be  feared  but  God  alone,  out 
of  whose  power  what  can  be  wrested  or  withdrawn  1  when,  or 
where,  or  whither,  or  by  whom?  The  tendernesses  of  the 
wanton  would  fain  be  counted  love :  yet  is  nothing  more  tender 
than  Thy  charity;  nor  is  aught  loved  more  healthfully  than 
Thy  truth,  bright  and  beautiful  above  all.  Curiosity  makes 
semblance  of  a  desire  of  knowledge ;  whereas  Thou  supremely 
knowest  all.  Yea,  ignorance  and  foolishness  itself  are  cloaked 
under  the  name  of  simplicity  and  uninjuriousness ;  because 
nothing  is  found  more  single  than  Thee :  and  what  less  in- 
jurious, since  they  are  his  own  works,  which  injure  the 
sinner?  Yea,  sloth  would  fain  be  at  rest;  but  what  stable 
rest  besides  the  Lord?  Luxury  affects  to  be  called  plenty 
and  abundance ;  but  Thou  art  the  fullness  and  never-failing 
plenteousness  of  incorruptible  pleasures.  Prodigality  pre- 
sents a  shadow  of  liberality:  but  Thou  art  the  most  over- 
flowing Giver  of  all  good.  Covetousness  would  possess  many 
things:  and  Thou  possessest  all  things.  Envy  disputes  for 
excellency:  what  more  excellent  than  Thou?  Anger  seeks 
revenge :  who  revenges  more  justly  than  Thou  ?  Fear  startles 
at  things  unwonted  and  sudden,  which  endanger  things  be- 
loved, and  takes  forethought  for  their  safety;  but  to  Thee 
what  unwonted  or  sudden,  or  who  separateth  from  Thee  what 
Thou  lovest?  Or  where  but  with  Thee  is  unshaken  safety? 
Grief  pines  away  for  things  lost,  the  delight  of  its  desires; 
because  it  would  have  nothing  taken  from  it,  as  nothing  can 
from  Thee. 

Thus  doth  the  soul  commit  fornication,  when  she  turns 


276  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

from  Thee,  seeking  without  Thee,  what  she  findeth  not  pure 
and  untainted,  till  she  returns  to  Thee.  Thus  all  pervertedly 
imitate  Thee,  who  remove  far  from  Thee,  and  lift  themselves 
up  against  Thee.  But  even  by  thus  imitating  Thee,  they 
imply  Thee  to  be  the  Creator  of  all  nature;  whence  there  is 
no  place  whither  altogether  to  retire  from  Thee.  "What  then 
did  I  love  in  that  theft?  and  wherein  did  I  even  corruptly 
and  pervertedly  imitate  my  Lord?  Did  I  wish  even  by 
stealth  to  do  contrary  to  Thy  law,  because  by  power  I  could 
not,  so  that  being  a  prisoner,  I  might  mimic  a  maimed  liberty 
by  doing  with  impunity  things  unpermitted  me,  a  darkened 
likeness  of  Thy  Omnipotency?  Behold,  Thy  servant,  fleeing 
from  his  Lord,  and  obtaining  a  shadow.  0  rottenness,  0 
monstrousness  of  life,  and  depth  of  death !  could  I  like  what 
I  might  not,  only  because  I  might  not? 

What  shall  I  render  unto  the  Lord,  that,  whilst  my  mem- 
ory recalls  these  things,  my  soul  is  not  affrighted  at  them? 
/  mil  love  Thee,  0  Lord,  and  thank  Thee,  and  confess  unto 
Thy  name;  because  Thou  hast  forgiven  me  these  so  great  and 
heinous  deeds  of  mine.  To  Thy  grace  I  ascribe  it,  and  to  Thy 
mercy,  that  Thou  hast  melted  away  my  sins  as  it  were  ice. 
To  Thy  grace  I  ascribe  also  whatsoever  I  have  not  done  of 
evil;  for  what  might  I  not  have  done,  who  even  loved  a  sin 
for  its  own  sake  ?  Yea,  all  I  confess  to  have  been  forgiven  me ; 
both  what  evils  I  committed  by  my  own  willfulness,  and  what 
by  Thy  guidance  I  committed  not.  What  man  is  he,  who, 
weighing  his  own  infirmity,  dares  to  ascribe  his  purity  and 
innocency  to  his  own  strength;  that  so  he  should  love  Thee 
the  less,  as  if  he  had  less  needed  Thy  mercy,  whereby  Thou 
remittest  sins  to  those  that  turn  to  Thee?  For  whosoever, 
called  by  Thee,  followed  Thy  voice,  and  avoided  those  things 
which  he  reads  me  recalling  and  confessing  of  myself,  let 
him  not  scorn  me,  who  being  sick,  was  cured  by  that  Phy- 
sician, through  Whose  aid  it  was  that  he  was  not,  or  rather 
was  less,  sick:  and  for  this  let  him  love  Thee  as  much,  yea 
and  more ;  since  by  Whom  he  sees  me  to  have  been  recovered 
from  such  deep  consumption  of  sin,  by  Him  he  sees  himself 
to  have  been  from  the  like  consumption  of  sin  preserved. 

What  fruit  had  I  then  (wretched  man!)  in  those  things, 
of  the  remembrance  whereof  I  am  now  ashamed?  Especially, 


SAINT  AUGUSTINE  277 

in  that  theft  which  I  loved  for  the  theft's  sake;  and  it  too 
was  nothing,  and  therefore  the  more  miserable  I,  who  loved 
it.  Yet  alone  I  had  not  done  it :  such  was  I  then,  I  remember, 
alone  I  had  never  done  it.  I  loved  then  in  it  also  the  com- 
pany of  the  accomplices,  with  whom  I  did  it?  I  did  not  then 
love  nothing  else  but  the  theft,  yea  rather  I  did  love  nothing 
else ;  for  that  circumstance  of  the  company  was  also  nothing. 
What  is,  in  truth?  who  can  teach  me,  save  He  that  enlight- 
eneth  my  heart,  and  discovereth  its  dark  corners?  What  is 
it  which  hath  come  into  my  mind  to  inquire,  and  discuss,  and 
consider  ?  For  had  I  then  loved  the  pears  I  stole,  and  wished 
to  enjoy  them,  I  might  have  done  it  alone,  had  the  bare  com- 
mission of  the  theft  sufficed  to  attain  my  pleasure ;  nor  needed 
I  have  inflamed  the  itching  of  my  desires,  by  the  excitement 
of  accomplices.  But  since  my  pleasure  was  not  in  those 
pears,  it  was  in  the  offense  itself,  which  the  company  of 
fellow-sinners  occasioned. 

What  then  was  this  feeling?  For  of  a  truth  it  was  too 
foul:  and  woe  was  me,  who  had  it.  But  yet  what  was  it? 
Who  can  understand  his  errors?  It  was  the  sport,  which, 
as  it  were,  tickled  our  hearts,  that  we  beguiled,  those  who 
little  thought  what  we  were  doing,  and  much  misliked  it. 
Why  then  was  my  delight  of  such  sort,  that  I  did  it  not 
alone  ?  Because  none  doth  ordinarily  laugh  alone  ?  ordinarily 
no  one ;  yet  laughter  sometimes  masters  men  alone  and  singly 
when  no  one  whatever  is  with  them,  if  anything  very 
ludicrous  presents  itself  to  their  senses  or  mind.  Yet  I  had 
not  done  this  alone ;  alone  I  had  never  never  done  it.  Behold 
my  God,  before  Thee,  the  vivid  remembrance  of  my  soul; 
alone,  I  had  never  committed  that  theft,  wherein  what  I 
stole  pleased  me  not,  but  that  I  stole ;  nor  had  it  alone  liked 
me  to  do  it,  nor  had  I  done  it.  O  friendship  too  unfriendly ! 
thou  incomprehensible  inveigler  of  the  soul,  thou  greediness 
to  do  mischief  out  of  mirth  and  wantonness,  thou  thirst  of 
others'  loss,  without  lust  of  my  own  gain  or  revenge:  but 
when  it  is  said,  "Let's  go,  let's  do  it,"  we  are  ashamed  not 
to  be  shameless. 

Who  can  disentangle  that  twisted  and  intricate  knottiness  ? 
Foul  is  it:  I  hate  to  think  on  it,  to  look  on  it.  But  Thee  I 
long  for,  O  Righteousness  and  Innocency,  beautiful  and 


278  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

comely  to  all  pure  eyes,  and  of  a  satisfaction  unsating.  With 
Thee  is  rest  entire,  and  life  imperturbable.  Whoso  enters 
into  Thee,  enters  into  the  joy  of  his  Lord:  and  shall  not  fear, 
and  shall  do  excellently  in  the  All-Excellent.  I  sank  away 
from  Thee,  and  I  wandered,  O  my  God,  too  much  astray 
from  Thee  my  stay,  in  these  days  of  my  youth,  and  I  became 
to  myself  a  barren  land. 

BOOK  ra 

To  Carthage  I  came,  where  there  sang  all  around  me  in  my 
ears  a  cauldron  of  unholy  loves.  I  loved  not  yet,  yet  I  loved 
to  love,  and  out  of  a  deep-seated  want,  I  hated  myself  for 
wanting  not.  I  sought  what  I  might  love,  in  love  with  lov- 
ing, and  safety  I  hated,  and  a  way  without  snares.  For  within 
me  was  a  famine  of  that  inward  food,  Thyself,  my  God ;  yet, 
through  that  famine  I  was  not  hungered ;  but  was  without 
all  longing  for  incorruptible  sustenance,  not  because  filled 
therewith,  but  the  more  empty,  the  more  I  loathed  it.  For 
this  cause  my  soul  was  sickly  and  full  of  sores,  it  miserably 
cast  itself  forth,  desiring  to  be  scraped  by  the  touch  of  ob- 
jects of  sense.  Yet  if  these  had  not  a  soul,  they  would  not 
be  objects  of  love.  To  love  then,  and  to  be  beloved,  was  sweet 
to  me ;  but  more,  when  I  obtained  to  enjoy  the  person  I  loved. 
I  defiled,  therefore,  the  spring  of  friendship  with  the  filth 
of  concupiscence,  and  I  beclouded  its  brightness  with  the  hell 
of  lustfulness;  and  thus  foul  and  unseemly,  I  would  fain, 
through  exceeding  vanity,  be  fine  and  courtly.  I  fell  head- 
long then  into  the  love,  wherein  I  longed  to  be  ensnared. 
My  God,  my  Mercy,  with  how  much  gall  didst  Thou  out  of 
Thy  great  goodness  besprinkle  for  me  that  sweetness?  For 
I  was  both  beloved,  and  secretly  arrived  at  the  bond  of  en- 
joying; and  was  with  joy  fettered  with  sorrow-bringing 
bonds,  that  I  might  be  scourged  with  the  iron  burning  rods 
of  jealousy,  and  suspicions,  and  fears,  and  angers,  and 
quarrels. 

Stage-plays  also  carried  me  away,  full  of  images  of  my 
miseries,  and  of  fuel  to  my  fire.  Why  is  it,  that  man  desires 
to  be  made  sad.  beholding  doleful  and  tragical  things,  which 
yet  himself  would  by  no  means  suffer?  yet  he  desires  as  a 
spectator  to  feel  sorrow  at  them,  and  this  very  sorrow  is  his 


SAINT  AUGUSTINE  279 

pleasure.  What  is  this  but  a  miserable  madness?  for  a  man 
is  the  more  affected  with  these  actions,  the  less  free  he  is 
from  such  affections.  Howsoever,  when  he  suffers  in  his  own 
person,  it  uses  to  be  styled  misery:  when  he  compassionates 
others,  then  it  is  mercy.  But  what  sort  of  compassion  is  this 
for  feigned  and  scenical  passions  ?  for  the  auditor  is  not  called 
on  to  relieve,  but  only  to  grieve:  and  he  applauds  the  actor 
of  these  fictions  the  more,  the  more  he  grieves.  And  if  the 
calamities  of  those  persons  (whether  of  old  times,  or  mere 
fiction)  be  so  acted,  that  the  spectator  is  not  moved  to  tears, 
he  goes  away  disgusted  and  criticizing;  but  if  he  be  moved 
to  passion,  he  stays  intent,  and  weeps  for  joy. 

Are  griefs  then  too  loved?  Verily  all  desire  joy.  Or 
whereas  no  man  likes  to  be  miserable,  is  he  yet  pleased  to 
be  merciful  ?  which  because  it  cannot  be  without  passion,  for 
this  reason  alone  are  passions  loved?  This  also  springs  from 
that  vein  of  friendship.  But  whither  goes  that  vein  ?  whither 
flows  it  ?  wherefore  runs  it  into  that *  torrent  of  pitch 
bubbling  forth  those  monstrous  tides  of  foul  lustfulness, 
into  which  it  is  willfully  changed  and  transformed,  being  of 
its  own  will  precipitated  and  corrupted  from  its  heavenly 
clearness  ?  Shall  compassion  then  be  put  away  ?  by  no  means. 
Be  griefs  then  sometimes  loved.  But  beware  of  uncleanness, 
0  my  soul,  under  the  guardianship  of  my  God,  the  God  of 
our  fathers,  who  is  to  be  praised  and  exalted  above  all  for 
ever,  beware  of  uncleanness.  For  I  have  not  now  ceased 
to  pity ;  but  then  in  the  theaters  I  rejoiced  with  lovers,  when 
they  wickedly  enjoyed  one  another,  although  this  was 
imaginary  only  in  the  play.  And  when  they  lost  one  another, 
as  if  very  compassionate,  I  sorrowed  with  them,  yet  had  my 
delight  in  both.  But  now  I  much  more  pity  him  that  re- 
joiceth  in  his  wickedness,  than  him  who  is  thought  to  suffer 
hardship,  by  missing  some  pernicious  pleasure,  and  the  loss 
of  some  miserable  felicity.  This  certainly  is  the  truer  mercy, 
but  in  it,  grief  delights  not.  For  though  he  that  grieves 
for  the  miserable,  be  commended  for  his  office  of  charity ;  yet 
had  he,  who  is  genuinely  compassionate,  rather  there  were 

1  He  alludes  to  the  sea  of  Sodom,  which  is  said  to  bubble  out  a  pitchy 
slime,  into  which  other  rivers  running,  are  there  lost  in  it.  And  like 
the  lake  itself,  remain  unmovable:  wherefore  it  is  called  the  Dead  Sea. 


280  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

nothing  for  him  to  grieve  for.  For  if  good  will  be  ill 
willed,  (which  can  never  be,)  then  raay  he,  who  truly  and 
sincerely  commiserates,  wish  there  might  be  some  miserable, 
that  he  might  commiserate.  Some  sorrow  may  then  be  al- 
lowed, none  loved.  For  thus  dost  Thou,  O  Lord  God,  who 
lovest  souls  far  more  purely  than  we,  and  hast  more  incor- 
ruptibly  pity  on  them,  yet  are  wounded  with  no  sorrowfulness. 
And  who  is  sufficient  for  these  things f 

But  I,  miserable,  then  loved  to  grieve,  and  sought  out  what 
to  grieve  at,  when  in  another's  and  that  feigned  and  per- 
sonated misery,  that  acting  best  pleased  me,  and  attracted  me 
the  most  vehemently,  which  drew  tears  from  me.  What 
marvel  that  an  unhappy  sheep,  straying  from  Thy  flock,  and 
impatient  of  Thy  keeping,  I  became  infected  with  a  foul 
disease?  And  hence  the  love  of  griefs;  not  such  as  should 
sink  deep  into  me;  for  I  loved  not  to  suffer,  what  I  loved 
to  look  on;  but  such  as  upon  hearing  their  fictions  should 
lightly  scratch  the  surface;  upon  which  as  on  envenomed 
nails,  followed  inflamed  swelling,  impostumes,  and  a  putrified 
sore.  My  life  being  such,  was  it  life,  0  my  God  ? 

And  Thy  faithful  mercy  hovered  over  me  afar.  Upon 
how  grievous  iniquities  consumed  I  myself,  pursuing  a 
sacrilegious  curiosity,  that  having  forsaken  Thee,  it  might 
bring  me  to  the  treacherous  abyss,  and  the  beguiling  service 
of  devils,  to  whom  I  sacrificed  my  evil  actions,  and  in  all 
these  things  thou  didst  scourge  me!  I  dared  even,  while 
Thy  solemnities  were  celebrated  within  the  walls  of  Thy 
Church,  to  desire,  and  to  compass  a  business,  deserving  death 
for  its  fruits,  for  which  Thou  scourgedst  me  with  grievous 
punishments,  though  nothing  to  my  fault,  0  Thou  my  ex- 
ceeding mercy,  my  God,  my  refuge  from  those  terrible  de- 
stroyers, among  whom  I  wandered  with  a  stiff  neck,  with- 
drawing further  from  Thee,  loving  mine  own  ways,  and  not 
Thine ;  loving  a  vagrant  liberty. 

Those  studies  also,  which  were  accounted  commendable, 
had  a  view  to  excelling  in  the  courts  of  litigation ;  the  more 
bepraised,  the  craftier.  Such  is  men's  blindness,  glorying 
even  in  their  blindness.  And  now  I  was  chief  in  the  rhetoric 
school,  whereat  I  joyed  proudly,  and  I  swelled  with 
arrogancy,  though  (Lord,  Thou  knowest)  far  quieter  and 


SAINT  AUGUSTINE  281 

altogether  removed  from  the  subvertings  of  those  "Sub- 
verters"2  (for  this  ill-omened  and  devilish  name  was  the 
very  badge  of  gallantry)  among  whom  I  lived,  with  a  shame- 
less shame  that  I  was  not  even  as  they.  With  them  I  lived, 
and  was  sometimes  delighted  with  their  friendship,  whose 
doings  I  ever  did  abhor,  i.e.  their  "subvertings,"  wherewith 
they  wantonly  persecuted  the  modesty  of  strangers,  which 
they  disturbed  by  a  gratuitous  jeering,  feeding  thereon  their 
malicious  mirth.  Nothing  can  be  liker  the  very  actions  of 
devils  than  these.  What  then  could  they  be  more  truly  called 
than  "  subverters  ? "  themselves  subverted  and  altogether  per- 
verted first,  the  deceiving  spirits  secretly  deriding  and  se- 
ducing them,  wherein  themselves  delight  to  jeer  at,  and 
deceive  others. 

Among  such  as  these,  in  that  unsettled  age  of  mine, 
learned  I  books  of  eloquence,  wherein  I  desired  to  be  eminent, 
out  of  a  damnable  and  vain  glorious  end,  a  joy  in  human 
vanity.  In  the  ordinary  course  of  study,  I  fell  upon  a  certain 
book  of  Cicero,  whose  speech  almost  all  admire,  not  so  his 
heart.  This  book  of  his  contains  an  exhortation  to  philosophy, 
and  is  called  "Hortensius."  But  this  book  altered  my  af- 
fections, and  turned  my  prayers  to  Thyself,  0  Lord;  and 
made  me  have  other  purposes  and  desires.  Every  vain  hope 
at  once  became  worthless  to  me;  and  I  longed  with  an  in- 
credibly burning  desire  for  an  immortality  of  wisdom,  and 
began  now  to  arise,  that  I  might  return  to  Thee.  For  not 
to  sharpen  my  tongue,  (which  thing  I  seemed  to  be  purchas- 
ing with  my  mother's  allowances,  in  that  my  nineteenth  year, 
my  father  being  dead  two  years  before,)  not  to  sharpen 
my  tongue  did  I  employ  that  book;  nor  did  it  infuse  into 
me  its  style,  but  its  matter. 

How  did  I  burn  then,  my  God,  how  did  I  burn  to  re-mount 
from  earthly  things  to  Thee,  nor  knew  I  what  Thou  wouldest 
do  with  me!  For  with  Thee  is  wisdom.  But  the  love  of 
wisdom  is  in  Greek  called  "philosophy,"  with  which  that 
book  inflamed  me.  Some  there  be  that  seduce  through 
philosophy,  under  a  great,  and  smooth,  and  honorable  name 

2  Kversores.  This  appears  to  have  been  a  name  which  a  pestilent  and 
savage  set  of  persons  gave  themselves,  licentious  alike  in  speech  and 
:'.(•( i«. n.  Thry  seem  to  lin.ve  consisted  mainly  of  Carthaginian  students. 


282  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

coloring  and  disguising  their  own  errors:  and  almost  all  who 
in  that  and  former  ages  were  such,  are  in  that  book  censured 
and  set  forth :  there  also  is  made  plain  that  wholesome  advice 
of  Thy  Spirit,  by  Thy  good  and  devout  servant;  Beware  lest 
any  man  spoil  you  through  philosophy  and  vain  deceit,  after 
the  tradition  of  men,  after  the  rudiments  of  the  world,  and 
not  after  Christ.  For  in  Him  dwellcth  all  the  fullness  of  the 
Godhead  bodily.  And  since  at  that  time  (Thou,  0  light  of  my 
heart,  knowest)  Apostolic  Scripture  was  not  known  to  me. 
I  was  delighted  with  that  exhortation,  so  far  only,  that  I 
was  thereby  strongly  roused,  and  kindled,  and  inflamed  to 
love,  and  seek,  and  obtain,  and  hold,  and  embrace  not  this 
or  that  sect,  but  wisdom  itself  whatever  it  were;  and  this 
alone  checked  me  thus  enkindled,  that  the  name  of  Christ  was 
not  in  it.  For  this  name,  according  to  Thy  mercy,  0  Lord, 
this  name  of  my  Savior  Thy  Son,  had  my  tender  heart,  even 
with  my  mother's  milk,  devoutly  drunk  in,  and  deeply 
treasured ;  and  whatsoever  was  without  that  name,  though 
never  so  learned,  polished,  or  true,  took  not  entire  hold  of  me. 

I  resolved  then  to  bend  my  mind  to  the  holy  Scriptures, 
that  I  might  see  what  they  were.  But  behold,  I  see  a  thing 
not  understood  by  the  proud,  nor  laid  open  to  children,  lowly 
in  access,  in  its  recesses  lofty,  and  veiled  with  mysteries; 
and  I  was  not  such  as  could  enter  into  it,  or  stoop  my  neck 
to  follow  its  steps.  For  not  as  I  now  speak,  did  I  feel  when 
I  turned  to  those  Scriptures ;  but  they  seemed  to  me  unworthy 
to  be  compared  to  the  stateliness  of  Tully:  for  my  swelling 
pride  shrunk  from  their  lowliness,  nor  could  my  sharp  wit 
pierce  the  interior  thereof.  Yet  were  they  such  as  would  grow 
up  in  a  little  one.  But  I  disdained  to  be  a  little  one;  and, 
swollen  with  pride,  took  myself  to  be  a  great  one. 

Therefore  I  fell  among  men  :!  proudly  doting,  exceeding 
carnal  and  prating,  in  whose  mouths  were  the  snares  of  the 
Devil,  lined  with  the  mixture  of  the  syllables  of  Thy  name, 
and  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  the 
Paraclete,  our  Comforter.  These  names  departed  not  out 
of  their  mouth,  but  so  far  forth,  as  the  sound  only  and  the 
noise  of  the  tongue,  for  the  heart  was  void  of  truth.  Yet 

"In  the  Preface  to  the  book  "On  the  Benefit  of  Believing,"  S.  Aug. 
speaks  further  on  the  errors  which  betrayed  him  to  the  Manichees. 


SAINT  AUGUSTINE  283 

they  cried  out  ''Truth,  Truth,"  and  spake  much  thereof  to 
me,  yet  it  was  not  in  them:  but  they  spake  falsehood,  not  of 
Thee  only,  (who  truly  art  Truth,)  but  even  of  those  elements 
of  this  world,  Thy  creatures.  And  I  indeed  ought  to  have 
passed  by  even  philosophers  who  spake  truth  concerning  them, 
for  love  of  Thee,  my  Father,  supremely  good,  Beauty  of  all 
things  beautiful.  O  Truth,  Truth,  how  inwardly  did  even 
then  the  marrow  of  my  soul  pant  after  Thee,  when  they 
often  and  diversely,  and  in  many  and  huge  books,  echoed  of 
Thee  to  me,  though  it  was  but  an  echo?  And  these  were  the 
dishes  wherein  to  me,  hungering  after  Thee,  they,  instead  of 
Thee,  served  up  the  Sun  and  Moon,  beautiful  works  of 
Thine,  but  yet  Thy  works,  not  Thyself,  no  nor  Thy  first 
works.  For  Thy  spiritual  works  are  before  these  corporeal 
works,  celestial  though  they  be,  and  shining.  But  I  hungered 
and  thirsted  not  even  after  those  first  works  of  Thine,  but 
after  Thee  Thyself,  the  Truth,  in  whom  is  no  variableness, 
neither  shadow  of  turning:  yet  they  still  set  before  me  in 
those  dishes,  glittering  fantasies,  than  which  better  were  it 
to  love  this  very  sun,  (which  is  real  to  our  sight  at  least,) 
than  those  fantasies  which  by  our  eyes  deceive  our  mind. 
Yet  because  I  thought  them  to  be  Thee,  I  fed  thereon ;  not 
eagerly,  for  Thou  didst  not  in  them  taste  to  me  as  Thou 
art ;  for  Thou  wast  not  these  emptinesses,  nor  was  I  nourished 
by  them,  but  exhausted  rather.  Food  in  sleep  shews  very 
like  our  food  awake;  yet  are  not  those  asleep  nourished  by 
it,  for  they  are  asleep.  But  those  were  not  even  any  way 
like  to  Thee,  as  Thou  hast  now  spoken  to  me ;  for  those  were 
corporeal  fantasies,  false  bodies,  than  which  these  true  bodies, 
celestial  or  terrestrial,  which  with  our  fleshly  sight  we  be- 
hold, are  far  more  certain:  these  things  the  beasts  and  birds 
discern  as  well  as  we,  and  they  are  more  certain  than  when 
we  fancy  them.  And  again,  we  do  with  more  certainty  fancy 
them,  than  by  them  conjecture  other  vaster  and  infinite 
bodies  which  have  no  being.  Such  empty  husks  was  I  then 
fed  on;  and  was  not  fed.  But  Thou,  my  soul's  Love,  in 
looking  for  whom  I  fail,  that  I  may  become  strong,  art 
neither  those  bodies  which  we  see,  though  in  heaven ;  nor 
those  which  we  see  not  there;  for  Thou  hast  created  them, 
nor  dost  Thou  account  them  among  the  chiefest  of  Thy 


284  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

works.  How  far  then  art  Thou  from  those  fantasies  of  mine, 
fantasies  of  bodies  which  altogether  are  not,  than  which  the 
images  of  those  bodies,  which  are,  are  far  more  certain,  and 
more  certain  still  the  bodies  themselves,  which  yet  Thou  art 
not;  no,  nor  yet  the  soul,  which  is  the  life  of  the  bodies. 
So  then,  better  and  more  certain  is  the  life  of  the  bodies, 
than  the  bodies.  But  Thou  art  the  life  of  souls,  the  life  of 
lives,  having  life  in  Thyself;  and  changest  not,  life  of  my 
soul. 

Where  then  wert  Thou  then  to  me,  and  how  far  from  me? 
Far  verily  was  I  straying  from  Thee,  barred  from  the  very 
husks  of  the  swine,  whom  with  husks  I  fed.  For  how  much 
better  are  the  fables  of  poets  and  grammarians,  than  these 
snares!  For  verses,  and  poems,  and  "Medea  flying,"  are 
more  profitable  truly,  than  these  men's  five  elements,  variously 
disguised,  answering  to  five  dens  of  darkness,  which  have  no 
being,  yet  slay  the  believer.  For  verses  and  poems  I  can 
turn  to  true  food,  and  "Medea  flying,"  though  I  did  sing, 
I  maintained  not ;  though  I  heard  it  sung,  I  believed  not : 
but  those  things  I  did  believe.  Woe,  woe,  by  what  steps  was 
I  brought  down  to  the  depths  of  hell!  toiling  and  turmoiling 
through  want  of  Truth,  since  I  sought  after  Thee,  my  God, 
(to  Thee  I  confess  it,  who  hadst  mercy  on  me,  not  as  yet 
confessing,)  not  according  to  the  understanding  of  the  mind, 
wherein  Thou  willedst  that  I  should  excel  the  beasts,  but  ac- 
cording to  the  sense  of  the  flesh.  But  Thou  wert  more  inward 
to  me,  than  my  most  inward  part;  and  higher  than  my 
highest.  I  lighted  upon  that  bold  woman,  simple  and 
knoweth  nothing,  shadowed  out  in  Solomon,  sitting  at  the 
door,  and  saying,  Eat  ye  bread  of  secrecies  willingly,  and 
drink  ye  stolen  waters  which  are  sweet:  she  seduced  me,  be- 
cause she  found  my  soul  dwelling  abroad  in  the  eye  of  my 
flesh,  and  ruminating  on  such  food,  as  through  it  I  had 
devoured. 

For  other  than  this,  that  which  really  is  I  knew  not;  and 
was,  as  it  were  through  sharpness  of  wit,  persuaded  to 
assent  to  foolish  deceivers,  when  they  asked  me,  "whence  is 
evil?"  "is  God  bounded  by  a  bodily  shape,  and  has  hairs 
and  nails?"  "are  they  to  be  esteemed  righteous,  who  had 
many  wives  at  once,  and  did  kill  men,  and  sacrificed  living 


SAINT  AUGUSTINE  285 

creatures?"  At  which.  I,  in  my  ignorance,  was  much  trou- 
bled, and  departing  from  the  truth,  seemed  to  myself  to  be 
making  towards  it;  because  as  yet  I  knew  not  that  evil  was 
nothing  but  a  privation  of  good,  until  at  last  a  thing  ceases 
altogether  to  be ;  which  how  should  I  see,  the  sight  of  whose 
eyes  reached  only  to  bodies,  and  of  my  mind  to  a  phantasm? 
And  I  knew  not  God  to  T)e  a  Spirit,  not  One  who  hath  parts 
extended  in  length  and  breadth,  or  whose  being  was  bulk; 
for  every  bulk  is  less  in  a  part,  than  in  the  whole :  and  if  it 
be  infinite,  it  must  be  less  in  such  part  as  is  defined  by  a  cer- 
tain space,  .than  in  its  infinitude ;  and  so  is  not  wholly  every 
where,  as  Spirit,  as  God.  And  what  that  should  be  in  us, 
by  which  we  were  like  to  God,  and  might  in  Scripture  be 
rightly  said  to  be  after  the  Image  of  God,  I  was  altogether 
ignorant. 

Nor  knew  I  that  true  inward  righteousness,  which  judgeth 
not  according  to  custom,  but  out  of  the  most  rightful  law 
of  God  Almighty,  whereby  the  ways  of  places  and  times 
were  disposed,  according  to  those  times  and  places;  itself 
meantime  being  the  same  always  and  everywhere,  not  one 
thing  in  one  place,  and  another  in  another;  according  to 
which  Abraham,  and  Isaac,  and  Jacob,  and  Moses,  and  David, 
were  righteous,  and  all  those  commended  by  the  mouth  of 
God ;  but  were  judged  unrighteous  by  silly  men,  judging  out 
of  man 's  judgment,  and  measuring  by  their  own  petty  habits, 
the  moral  habits  of  the  whole  human  race.  As  if  in  an 
armory,  one  ignorant  what  were  adapted  to  each  part,  should 
cover  his  head  with  greaves,  or  seek  to  be  shod  with  a  helmet, 
and  complain  that  they  fitted  not:  or  as  if  on  a  day,  when 
business  is  publicly  stopped  in  the  afternoon,  one  were 
angered  at  not  being  allowed  to  keep  open  shop,  because  he 
had  been  in  the  forenoon ;  or  when  in  one  house  he  observeth 
some  servant  take  a  thing  in  his  hand,  which  the  butler  is 
not  suffered  to  meddle  with;  or  something  permitted  out  of 
doors,  which  is  forbidden  in  the  dining-room;  and  should  be 
angry,  that  in  one  house,  and  one  family,  the  same  thing 
is  not  allotted  everywhere,  and  to  all.  Even  such  are  they 
who  are  fretted  to  hear  something  to  have  been  lawful  for 
righteous  men  formerly,  which  now  is  not;  or  that  God,  for 
certain  temporal  respects,  commanded  them  one  thing,  and 


286  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

these  another,  obeying  both  the  same  righteousness:  whereas 
they  see,  in  one  man,  and  one  day,  and  one  house,  different 
things  to  be  fit  for  different  members,  and  a  thing  formerly 
lawful,  after  a  certain  time  not  so;  in  one  corner  permitted 
or  commanded,  but  in  another  rightly  forbidden  and  pun- 
ished. Is  justice  therefore  various  or  mutable?  No,  but  the 
times,  over  which  it  presides,  flow  not  evenly,  because  they 
are  times.  But  men,  whose  days  are  few  upon  the  earth, 
for  that  by  their  senses  they  cannot  harmonize  the  causes 
of  things  in  former  ages  and  other  nations,  which  they  had 
no  experience  of,  with  these  which  they  have  experience  of, 
whereas  in  one  and  the  same  body,  day,  or  family,  they  easily 
see  what  is  fitting  for  each  member,  and  season,  part,  and 
person ;  to  the  one  they  take  exceptions,  to  the  other  they 
submit. 

These  things  I  then  knew  not,  nor  observed;  they  struck 
my  sight  on  all  sides,  and  I  saw  them  not.  I  indited  verses, 
in  which  I  might  not  place  every  foot  everywhere,  but  dif- 
ferently in  different  meters;  nor  even  in  any  one  meter  the 
self-same  foot  in  all  places.  Yet  the  art  itself,  by  which  I 
indited,  had  not  different  principles  for  these  different  cases, 
but  comprised  all  in  one.  Still  I  saw  not  how  that  righteous- 
ness, which  good  and  holy  men  obeyed,  did  far  more  ex- 
cellently and  sublimely  contain  in  one  all  those  things  which 
God  commanded,  and  in  no  part  varied ;  although  in  varying 
times  it  prescribed  not  everything  at  once,  but  apportioned 
and  enjoined  what  wras  fit  for  each.  And  I,  in  my  blindness, 
censured  the  holy  Fathers,  not  only  wherein  they  made  use 
of  things  present  as  God  commanded  and  inspired  them,  but 
also  wherein  they  were  foretelling  things  to  come,  as  God 
was  revealing  in  them. 

Can  it  at  any  time  or  place  be  unjust  to  love  God  with  all 
his  heart,  with  all  his  soul,  and  with  all  his  mind;  and  his 
neighbor  as  himself?  Therefore  are  those  foul  offenses  which 
be  against  nature,  to  be  everywhere  and  at  all  times  de- 
tested and  punished ;  such  as  were  those  of  the  men  of 
Sodom :  which  should  all  nations  commit,  they  should  all 
stand  guilty  of  the  same  crime,  by  the  law  of  God,  which 
hath  not  so  made  men,  that  they  should  so  abuse  one  an- 
other. For  even  that  intercourse  which  should  be  between 


SAINT  AUGUSTINE  287 

God  and  us  is  violated,  when  that  same  nature,  of  which 
He  is  Author,  is  polluted  by  the  perversity  of  lust.  But  those 
actions  which  are  offenses  against  the  customs  of  men,  are  to 
be  avoided  according  to  the  customs  severally  prevailing;  so 
that  a  thing  agreed  upon,  and  confirmed,  by  custom  or  law 
of  any  city  or  nation,  may  not  be  violated  at  the  lawless 
pleasure  of  any,  whether  native  or  foreigner.  For  any  part, 
which  harmonizeth  not  with  its  whole,  is  offensive.  But 
when  God  commands  a  thing  to  be  done,  against  the  customs 
or  compact  of  any  people,  though  it  were  never  by  them 
done  heretofore,  it  is  to  be  done ;  and  if  intermitted,  it  is  to 
be  restored;  and  if  never  ordained,  is  now  to  be  ordained. 
For  lawful  if  it  be  for  a  king,  in  the  state  which  he  reigns 
over,  to  command  that,  which  no  one  before  him,  nor  he  him- 
self heretofore,  had  commanded,  and  to  obey  him  cannot 
be  against  the  common  weal  of  the  state;  (nay,  it  were 
against  it  if  he  were  not  obeyed,  for  to  obey  princes  is  a 
general  compact  of  human  society;)  how  much  more  un- 
hesitatingly ought  we  to  obey  God,  in  all  which  He  commands, 
the  Ruler  of  all  His  creatures!  For  as  among  the  powers 
in  man's  society,  the  greater  authority  is  obeyed  in  preference 
to  the  lesser,  so  must  God  above  all. 

So  in  acts  of  violence,  where  there  is  a  wish  to  hurt, 
whether  by  reproach  or  injury ;  and  these  either  for  revenge, 
as  one  enemy  against  another ;  or  for  some  profit  belonging 
to  another,  as  the  robber  to  the  traveler ;  or  to  avoid  some 
evil,  as  towards  one  who  is  feared;  or  through  envy,  as  one 
less  fortunate  to  one  more  so,  or  one  well  thriven  in  any- 
thing, to  him  whose  being  on  a  par  with  himself  he  fears, 
or  grieves  at,  or  for  the  mere  pleasure  at  another's  pain,  as 
spectators  of  gladiators,  or  deriders  and  mockers  of  others. 
These  be  the  heads  of  iniquity,  which  spring  from  the  lust  of 
the  flesh,  of  the  eye,  or  of  rule,  either  singly,  or  two  com- 
bined, or  all  together;  and  so  do  men  live  ill  against  the 
three,  and  seven,4  that  psaltery  of  ten  strings,  Thy  Ten  Com- 

*  S.  Augustine  mentions  the  two  modes  of  dividing  the  Ten  Com- 
mandments, into  three  and  seven,  or  four  and  six,  and  gives  what  appear 
to  have  boon  his  own  private  reasons  for  preferring  the  first.  "To  the 
first  Commandment  there  belong  three  strings,  because  God  is  Trine. 
To  the  other,  i.e.  the  love  of  our  neighbor,  seven  strings.  These  let  us 
join  to  those  three,  which  belong  to  the  love  of  God,  if  we  would  on 


288  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

mandmcnts,  O  God,  most  high,  and  most  sweet.  But  what 
foul  offenses  can  there  be  against  Thee,  who  canst  not  be 
defiled?  or  what  acts  of  violence  against  Thee,  who  canst 
not  be  harmed?  But  Thou  avengest  what  men  commit 
against  themselves,  seeing  also  when  they  sin  against  Thee, 
they  do  wickedly  against  their  own  souls,  and  iniquity  gives 
itself  the  lie,  by  corrupting  and  perverting  their  nature,  which 
Thou  hast  created  and  ordained,  or  by  an  immoderate  use  of 
things  allowed,  or  in  burning  in  things  unallowed,  to  that 
use  which  is  against  nature;  or  are  found  guilty,  raging  with 
heart  and  tongue  against  Thee,  kicking  against  the  pricks; 
or  when,  bursting  the  pale  of  human  society,  they  boldly  joy 
in  self-willed  combinations  or  divisions,  according  as  they 
have  any  object  to  gain  or  subject  of  offense.  And  these 
things  are  done  when  Thou  art  forsaken,  O  Fountain  of  Life, 
who  art  the  only  and  true  Creator  and  Governor  of  the 
Universe,  and  by  a  self-willed  pride,  any  one  false  thing  is 
selected  therefrom  and  loved.  So  then  by  a  humble  de- 
voutness  wre  return  to  Thee;  and  Thou  cleansest  us  from 
our  evil  habits,  and  art  merciful  to  their  sins  who  confess, 
and  hcarcst  the  groaning  of  the  prisoner,  and  loosest  us  from 
the  chains  which  we  made  for  ourselves,  if  we  lift  not  up 
against  Thee  the  horns  of  an  unreal  liberty,  suffering  the 
loss  of  all,  through  covetousness  of  more,  by  loving  more  our 
own  private  good,  than  Thee,  the  Good  of  all. 

Amidst  these  offenses  of  foulness  and  violence,  and  so  many 
iniquities,  are  sins  of  men,  who  are  on  the  whole  making 
proficiency;  which  by  those  that  judge  rightly,  are,  after 
the  rule  of  perfection,  discommended,  yet  the  persons  com- 
mended, upon  hope  of  future  fruit,  as  in  the  green  blade  of 
growing  corn.  And  there  are  some,  resembling  offenses  of 
foulness  or  violence,  which  yet  are  no  sins;  because  they 
offend  neither  Thee,  our  Lord  God,  nor  human  society ;  when, 
namely,  things  fitting  for  a  given  period  are  obtained  for 
the  service  of  life,  and  we  know  not  whether  out  of  a  lust 

the  psaltrry  of  ten  strings  .sin/7  a  new  sonfj.  If  yc  do  it  out  of  love,  ye 
sing  n  new  song;  if  ye  do  it  from  fear,  but  still  do  it,  ye  bear  indeed 
the  psaltery,  but  do  not  yet  sing;  but  if  ye  do  not  even  this,  ye  cast 
away  the  psaltery  itself.  Better  even  to  bear,  than  cast  away;  but  again, 
better  with  joy  to  sing,  than  to  boar  as  burthensome.  But  to  'sing  a 
new  song, '  he  must  be  a  new  man. ' ' 


SAINT  AUGUSTINE  289 

of  having;  or  when  things  are,  for  the  sake  of  correction, 
by  constituted  authority  punished,  and  we  know  not  whether 
out  of  a  lust  of  hurting.  Many  an  action  then  which  in 
men's  sight  is  disapproved,  is  by  Thy  testimony  approved; 
and  many,  by  men  praised,  are  (Thou  being  witness)  con- 
demned: because  the  shew  of  the  action,  and  the  mind  of 
the  doer,  and  the  unknown  exigency  of  the  period,  severally 
vary.  But  when  Thou  on  a  sudden  commandest  an  un- 
wonted and  unthought-of  thing,  yea,  although  Thou  hast 
sometime  forbidden  it,  and  still  for  the  time  hidest  the  reason 
of  Thy  command,  and  it  be  against  the  ordinance  of  some 
society  of  men,  who  doubts  but  it  is  to  be  done,  seeing  that 
society  of  men  is  just  which  serves  Thee?  But  blessed  are 
they  who  know  Thy  commands!  For  all  things  were  done 
by  Thy  servants ;  either  to  shew  forth  something  needful  for 
the  present,  or  to  foreshew  things  to  come. 

These  things  I  being  ignorant  of,  scoffed  at  those  Thy 
holy  servants  and  prophets.  And  what  gained  I  by  scoffing 
at  them,  but  to  be  scoffed  at  by  Thee,  being  insensibly  and 
step  by  step  drawn  on  to  those  follies,  as  to  believe  that  a  fig- 
tree  wept  when  it  was  plucked,  and  the  tree,  its  mother,  shed 
milky  tears?  Which  fig  notwithstanding  (plucked  by  some 
other's,  not  his  own,  guilt)  had  some  (Manichaean)  saint 
eaten,  and  mingled  with  his  bowels,  he  should  breathe  out 
of  it  angels,  yea,  there  shall  burst  forth  particles  of  divinity, 
at  every  moan  or  groan  in  his  prayer,  which  particles  of  the 
most  high  and  true  God  had  remained  bound  in  that  fig, 
unless  they  had  been  set  at  liberty  by  the  teeth  or  belly  of 
some  "Elect"  saint!  And  I,  miserable,  believed  that  more 
mercy  was  to  be  shewn  to  the  fruits  of  the  earth  than  men, 
for  whom  they  were  created.  For  if  any  one  an  hungered, 
not  a  Manichasan,  should  ask  for  any,  that  morsel  would  seem 
as  it  were  condemned  to  capital  punishment,  which  should  be 
given  him. 

And  Thou  sentest  Thine  hand  from  above,  and  drewest 
my  soul  out  of  that  profound  darkness,  my  mother,  Thy 
faithful  one,  weeping  to  Thee  for  me,  more  than  mothers 
weep  the  bodily  deaths  of  their  children.  For  she,  by  that 
faith  and  spirit  which  she  had  from.  Thee,  discerned  the 
death  wherein  I  lay,  and  Thou  heardest  her,  0  Lord;  Thou 

A.  V.  1  —  19 


290  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

heardest  her,  and  despisedst  not  her  tears,  when  streaming 
down,  they  watered  the  ground  under  her  eyes  in  every  place 
where  she  prayed ;  yea  Thou  heardest  her.  For  whence  was 
that  dream  whereby  Thou  comfortedst  her;  so  that  she  al- 
lowed me  to  live  with  her,  and  to  eat  at  the  same  table  in  the 
house,  which  she  had  begun  to  shrink  from,  abhorring  and 
detesting  the  blasphemies  of  my  error?  For  she  saw  herself 
standing  on  a  certain  wooden  rule,  and  a  shining  youth  com- 
ing towards  her,  cheerful  and  smiling  upon  her,  herself 
grieving,  and  overwhelmed  with  grief.  But  he  having  (in 
order  to  instruct,  as  is  their  wont,  not  to  be  instructed)  in- 
quired of  her  the  causes  of  her  grief  and  daily  tears,  and  she 
answering  that  she  was  bewailing  my  perdition,  he  bade  her 
rest  contented,  and  told  her  to  look  and  observe,  "That  where 
she  was,  there  was  I  also."  And  when  she  looked,  she  saw 
me  standing  by  her  in  the  same  rule.  Whence  was  this,  but 
that  Thine  ears  were  towards  her  heart?  0  Thou  Good 
omnipotent,  who  so  carest  for  every  one  of  us,  as  if  Thou 
caredst  for  him  only ;  and  so  for  all,  as  if  they  were  but  one ! 
Whence  was  this  also,  that  when  she  had  told  me  this  vision, 
and  I  would  fain  bend  it  to  mean,  "That  she  rather  should 
not  despair  of  being  one  day  what  I  was;"  she  presently, 
without  any  hesitation,  replies;  "No;  for  it  was  not  told  me 
that,  'where  he,  there  thou  also;'  but  'where  thou,  there  he 
also?'  '  I  confess  to  Thee,  0  Lord,  that  to  the  best  of  my 
remembrance,  (and  I  have  oft  spoken  of  this),  that  Thy 
answer,  through  my  waking  mother, — that  she  was  not  per- 
plexed by  the  plausibility  of  my  false  interpretation,  and 
so  quickly  saw  what  was  to  be  seen,  and  which  I  certainly 
had  not  perceived,  before  she  spake, — even  then  moved  me 
more  than  the  dream  itself,  by  which  a  joy  to  the  holy 
woman,  to  be  fulfilled  so  long  after,  was,  for  the  consolation 
of  her  present  anguish,  so  long  before  foresignified.  For 
almost  nine  years  passed,  in  which  I  wallowed  in  the  mire  of 
that  deep  pit,  and  the  darkness  of  falsehood,  often  assaying 
to  rise,  but  dashed  down  the  more  grievously.  All  which 
time  that  chaste,  godly,  and  sober  widow,  (such  as  Thou 
lovest,)  now  more  cheered  with  hope,  yet  no  whit  relaxing 
in  her  weeping  and  mourning,  ceased  not  at  all  hours  of  her 
devotions  to  bewail  my  case  unto  Thee.  And  her  prayers 


SAINT  AUGUSTINE  291 

entered  into  Thy  presence;  and  yet  Thou  sufferest  me  to  be 
yet  involved  and  reinvolved  in  that  darkness. 

Thou  gavest  her  meantime  another  answer,  which  I  call 
to  mind;  for  much  I  pass  by,  hasting  to  those  things  which 
more  press  me  to  confess  unto  Thee,  and  much  I  do  not  re- 
member. Thou  gavest  her  then  another  answer,  by  a  Priest 
of  Thine,  a  certain  Bishop  brought  up  in  Thy  Church,  and 
well  studied  in  Thy  books.  Whom  when  this  woman  had 
entreated  to  vouchsafe  to  converse  \vith  me,  refute  my  errors, 
unteach  me  ill  things,  and  teach  me  good  things,  (for  this  he 
was  wont  to  do,  when  he  found  persons  fitted  to  receive  it,) 
he  refused,  wisely,  as  I  afterwards  perceived.  For  he  an- 
swered, that  I  was  yet  unteachable,  being  puffed  up  with  the 
novelty  of  that  heresy,  and  had  already  perplexed  divers 
unskillful  persons  with  captious  questions,  as  she  had  told 
him:  "but  let  him  alone  a  while,"  (saith  he,)  "only  pray 
God  for  him,  he  will  of  himself  by  reading  find  what  that 
error  is,  and  how  great  its  impiety."  At  the  same  time 
he  told  her,  how  himself,  when  a  little  one,  had  by  his 
seduced  mother  been  consigned  over  to  the  Manichees,  and 
had  not  only  read,  but  frequently  copied  out  almost  all,  their 
books,  and  had  (without  any  argument  or  proof  from  any 
one)  seen  how  much  that  sect  was  to  be  avoided;  and  .had 
avoided  it.  Which  when  he  had  said,  and  she  would  not  be 
satisfied,  but  urged  him  more,  with  entreaties  and  many  tears, 
that  he  would  see  me,  and  discourse  with  me;  he,  a  little 
displeased  at  her  importunity,  saith,  "Go  thy  ways,  and  God 
bless  Thee,  for  it  is  not  possible  that  the  son  of  these  tears 
should  perish."  Which  answer  she  took  (as  she  often  men- 
tioned in  her  conversations  with  me)  as  if  it  had  sounded 
from  heaven. 

BOOK   IV 

FOR  this  space  of  nine  years  then  (from  my  nineteenth  year, 
to  my  eight  and  twentieth)  we  lived  seduced  and  seducing, 
deceived  and  deceiving,  in  divers  lusts ;  openly,  by  sciences 
which  they  call  liberal ;  secretly,  with  a  false  named  religion ; 
here  proud,  there  superstitious,  everywhere  vain !  Here, 
hunting  after  the  emptiness  of  popular  praise,  down  even  to 
theatrical  applauses,  and  poetic  prizes,  and  strifes  for  grassy 


292  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

garlands,  and  the  follies  of  shews,  and  the  intemperance  of 
desires.  There,  desiring  to  be  cleansed  from  these  defile- 
ments, by  carrying  food  to  those  who  were  called  "elect" 
and  "holy,"  out  of  which,  in  the  workhouse  of  their  stomachs, 
they  should  forge  for  us  Angels  and  Gods,  by  whom  we  might 
be  cleansed.  These  things  did  I  follow,  and  practice  with 
my  friends,  deceived  by  me,  and  with  me.  Let  the  arrogant 
mock  me,  and  such  as  have  not  been,  to  their  soul's  health, 
stricken  and  cast  down  by  Thee,  O  my  God;  but  I  would 
still  confess  to  Thee  mine  own  shame  in  Thy  praise.  Suffer 
me,  I  beseech  Thee,  and  give  me  grace  to  go  over  in  my 
present  remembrance  the  wanderings  of  my  forepassed  time, 
and  to  offer  unto  Thee  the  sacrifice  of  thanksgiving.  For 
•what  am  I  to  myself  without  Thee,  but  a  guide  to  mine  own 
downfall  ?  or  what  am  I  even  at  the  best,  but  an  infant 
sucking  the  milk  Thou  givest,  and  feeding  upon  Thee,  the 
food  that  perish eth  not?  But  what  sort  of  man  is  any  man, 
seeing  he  is  but  a  man?  Let  now  the  strong  and  the  mighty 
laugh  at  us,  but  let  us  poor  and  needy  confess  unto  Thee. 

In  those  years  I  taught  rhetoric,  and,  overcome  by  cupidity, 
made  sale  of  a  loquacity  to  overcome  by.  Yet  I  preferred 
(Lord,  Thou  knowest)  honest  scholars,  (as  they  are  ac- 
counted,) and  these  I,  without  artifice,  taught  artifices,  not 
to  be  practiced  against  the  life  of  the  guiltless,  though  some- 
times for  the  life  of  the  guilty.  And  thou,  O  God,  from  afar 
perceivedst  me  stumbling  in  that  slippery  course,  and  amid 
much  smoke  sending  out  some  sparks  of  faithfulness,  which  I 
shewed  in  that  my  guidance  of  such  as  loved  vanity,  and 
sought  after  leasing,  myself  their  companion.  In  those  years 
I  had  one, — not  in  that  which  is  called  lawful  marriage,  but 
whom  I  had  found  out  in  a  wayward  passion,  void  of  under- 
standing; yet  but  one,  remaining  faithful  even  to  her;  in 
whom  I  in  my  own  case  experienced,  what  difference  there 
is  betwixt  the  self-restraint  of  the  marriage-covenant,  for  the 
sake  of  issue,  and  the  bargain  of  a  lustful  love,  where  children 
are  born  against  their  parents'  will,  although,  once  born,  they 
constrain  love. 

I  remember  also,  that  when  I  had  settled  to  enter  the  lists 
for  a  theatrical  prize,  some  wizard  asked  me  what  I  would 
give  him  to  win:  but  I,  detesting  and  abhorring  such  foul 


SAINT  AUGUSTINE  293 

mysteries,  answered,  "Though  the  garland  were  of  imperish- 
able gold,  I  would  not  suffer  a  fly  to  be  killed  to  gain  me  it. ' ' 
For  he  was  to  kill  some  living  creatures  in  his  sacrifices,  and 
by  those  honors  to  invite  the  devils  to  favor  me.  But  this  ill 
also  I  rejected,  not  out  of  a  pure  love  for  Thee,  O  God  of  my 
heart;  for  I  knew  not  how  to  love  Thee,  who  knew  not  how 
to  conceive  aught  beyond  a  material  brightness.  And  doth 
not  a  soul,  sighing  after  such  fictions,  commit  fornication 
against  Thee,  trust  in  things  unreal,  and  feed  the  wind? 
Still  I  would  not  forsooth  have  sacrifices  offered  to  devils 
for  me,  to  whom  I  was  sacrificing  myself  by  that  superstition. 
For,  what  else  is  it  to  feed  the  wind,  but  to  feed  them,  that 
is,  by  going  astray  to  become  their  pleasure  and  derision  ? 

Those  impostors  then,  whom  they  style  Mathematicians,  I 
consulted  without  scruple;  because  they  seemed  to  use  no 
sacrifice,  nor  to  pray  to  any  spirit  for  their  divinations :  which 
art,  however,  Christian  and  true  piety  consistently  rejects 
and  condemns.  For,  it  is  a  good  thing  to  confess  unto  Thee, 
and  to  say,  Have  mercy  upon  me,  heal  my  soul,  for  I  have 
sinned  against  Thee;  and  not  to  abuse  Thy  mercy  for  a 
license  to  sin,  but  to  remember  the  Lord's  words,  Behold, 
thou  art  made  whole,  sin  no  more,  lest  a  worse  thing  come 
unto  thee.  All  which  wholesome  advice  they  labor  to  destroy, 
saying,  "The  cause  of  thy  sin  is  inevitably  determined  in 
heaven;"  and  "This  did  Venus,  or  Saturn,  or  Mars:"  that 
man,  forsooth,  flesh  and  blood,  and  proud  corruption,  might 
be  blameless ;  while  the  Creator  and  Ordainer  of  heaven  and 
the  stars  is  to  bear  the  blame.  And  who  is  He  but  our  God  ? 
the  very  sweetness  and  well-spring  of  righteousness,  who 
renderest  to  every  man  according  to  his  works:  and  a  broken 
and  contrite  heart  wilt  Thou  not  despise. 

Tnere  was  in  those  days  a  wise  man,1  very  skillful  in 
physic,  and  renowned  therein,  who  had  with  his  own  procon- 
sular hand  put  the  Agonistic  garland  upon  my  distempered 
head,  but  not  as  a  physician :  for  this  disease  Thou  only  curest, 
who  resistest  the  proud,  and  givest  grace  to  the  humble. 
But  didst  Thou  fail  me  even  by  that  old  man,  or  forbear  to 
heal  my  soul  ?  For  having  become  more  acquainted  with  him, 
and  hanging  assiduously  and  fixedly  on  his  speech,  (for 

1  Vindicianus.    S.  Aug.  calls  him  "the  great  physician  of  our  times." 


294-  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

though  in  simple  terms,  it  was  vivid,  lively,  and  earnest,) 
when  he  had  gathered  by  my  discourse,  that  I  was  given  to 
the  books  of  nativity-casters,  he  kindly  and  fatherly  advised 
me  to  cast  them  away,  and  not  fruitlessly  bestow  a  care  and 
diligence,  necessary  for  useful  things,  upon  these  vanities ; 
saying,  that  he  had  in  his  earliest  years  studied  that  art,  so 
as  to  make  it  the  profession  whereby  he  should  live,  and  that, 
understanding  Hippocrates,  he  could  soon  have  understood 
such  a  study  as  this ;  and  yet  he  had  given  it  over,  and  taken 
to  physic,  for  no  other  reason,  but  that  he  found  it  utterly 
false;  and  he,  a  grave  man  would  not  get  his  living  by 
deluding  people.  "But  thou,"  saith  he,  "hast  rhetoric  to 
maintain  thyself  by,  so  that  thou  followest  this  of  free  choice, 
not  of  necessity:  the  more  then  oughtest  Thou  to  give  me 
credit  herein,  who  labored  to  acquire  it  so  perfectly,  as  to 
get  my  living  by  it  alone."  Of  whom  when  I  had  demanded, 
how  then  could  many  true  things  be  foretold  by  it,  he  an- 
swered me  (as  he  could)  "that  the  force  of  chance,  diffused 
throughout  the  whole  order  of  things,  brought  this  about. 
For  if  when  a  man  by  hap-hazard  opens  the  pages  of  some 
poet,  who  sang  and  thought  of  something  wholly  different,  a 
verse  oftentimes  fell  out,  wondrously  agreeable  to  the  present 
business :  it  were  not  to  be  wondered  at,  if  out  of  the  soul  of 
man,  unconscious  what  takes  place  in  it,  by  some  higher 
instinct  an  answer  should  be  given,  by  hap,  not  by  art,  cor- 
responding to  the  business  and  actions  of  the  demander. " 

'And  thus  much,  either  from  or  through  him,  Thou  con- 
veyedst  to  me,  and  tracedst  in  my  memory,  what  I  might 
hereafter  examine  for  myself.  But  at  that  time  neither  he, 
nor  my  dearest  Nebridius,  a  youth  singularly  good  and  of  a 
holy  fear,  who  derided  the  whole  body  of  divination,  could 
persuade  me  to  cast  it  aside,  the  authority  of  the  authors 
swaying  me  yet  more,  and  as  yet  I  had  found  no  certain 
proof  (such  as  I  sought)  whereby  it  might  without  all  doubt 
appear,  that  what  had  been  truly  foretold  by  those  consulted 
was  the  result  of  hap-hazard,  not  of  the  art  of  the  star- 
gazers. 

In  those  years  when  I  first  began  to  teach  rhetoric  in  my 
native  town,  I  had  made  one  my  friend,  but  too  dear  to  me, 
from  a  community  of  pursuits,  of  mine  own  age,  and,  as  my- 


SAINT  AUGUSTINE  295 

self,  in  the  first  opening  flower  of  youth.  He  had  grown  up 
of  a  child  with  me,  and  we  had  been  both  school-fellows,  and 
play-fellows.  But  he  was  not  yet  my  friend  as  afterwards, 
nor  even  then,  as  true  friendship  is;  for  true  it  cannot  be, 
unless  in  such  as  Thou  cementest  together,  cleaving  unto 
Thee,  by  that  love  which  is  shed  abroad  in  our  hearts  by  the 
Holy  Ghost,  which  is  given  unto  us.  Yet  was  it  but  too  sweet, 
ripened  by  the  warmth  of  kindred  studies :  for,  from  the  true 
faith  (which  he  as  a  youth  had  not  soundly  and  thoroughly 
imbibed,)  I  had  warped  him  also  to  those  superstitious  and 
pernicious  fables,  for  which  my  mother  bewailed  me.  With 
me  he  now  erred  in  mind,  nor  could  my  soul  be  without  him. 
But  behold  Thou  wert  close  on  the  steps  of  Thy  fugitives,  at 
once  God  of  vengeance,  and  Fountain  of  mercies,  turning  us 
to  Thyself  by  wonderful  means;  Thou  tookest  that  man  out 
of  this  life,  when  he  had  scarce  filled  up  one  whole  year  of 
my  friendship,  sweet  to  me  above  all  sweetness  of  that  my  life. 
Who  can  recount  all  Thy  praises,  which  he  hath  felt  in  his 
one  self?  What  didst  Thou  then,  my  God,  and  how  unsearch- 
able is  the  abyss  of  Thy  judgments?  For  long,  sore  sick  of  a 
fever,  he  lay  senseless  in  a  death-sweat;  and  his  recovery 
being  despaired  of,  he  was  baptized,  unknowing;  myself 
meanwhile  little  regarding,  and  presuming  that  his  soul  would 
retain  rather  what  it  had  received  of  me,  not  what  was 
wrought  on  his  unconscious  body.  But  it  proved  far  other- 
wise :  for  he  was  refreshed,  and  restored.  Forthwith,  as  soon 
as  I  could  speak  with  him,  (and  I  could,  so  soon  as  he  was 
able,  for  I  never  left  him,  and  we  hung  but  too  much  upon 
each  other,)  I  essayed  to  jest2  with  him,  as  though  he  would 
jest  with  me  at  that  baptism  which  he  had  received,  when 
utterly  absent  in  mind  and  feeling,  but  had  now  understood 
that  he  had  received.  But  he  so  shrunk  from  me,  as  from  an 
enemy;  and  with  a  wonderful  and  sudden  freedom  bade  me, 
as  I  would  continue  his  friend,  forbear  such  language  to  him. 
I,  all  astonished  and  amazed,  suppressed  all  my  emotions  till 
he  should  grow  well,  and  his  health  wrere  strong  enough  for 
me  to  deal  with  him,  as  I  would.  But  he  was  taken  away 

a  The  Manichajans,  which  S.  Aug.  then  was,  could  not  but  reject  Bap- 
tism, or  any  rite  employing  a  material  substance.  They  purified  matter, 
not  matter  them.  S.  Aug.  speaks  again  of  his  "mocking"  at  Baptism 
in  his  own  case. 


296  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

from  my  frenzy,  that  with  Thee  he  might  be  preserved  for 
my  comfort ;  a  few  days  after,  in  my  absence,  he  was  attacked 
again  by  the  fever,  and  so  departed. 

At  this  grief  my  heart  was  utterly  darkened ;  and  whatever 
I  beheld  was  death.  My  native  country  was  a  torment  to  me, 
and  my  father's  house  a  strange  unhappiness;  and  whatever 
I  had  shared  with  him,  wanting  him,  became  a  distracting 
torture.  Mine  eyes  sought  him  everywhere,  but  he  was  not 
granted  them;  and  I  hated  all  places,  for  that  they  had  not 
him ;  nor  could  they  now  tell  me,  "he  is  coming,"  as  when  he 
was  alive  and  absent.  I  became  a  great  riddle  to  myself,  and 
I  asked  my  soul,  why  she  was  so  sad,  and  why  she  disquieted 
me  sorely:  but  she  knew  not  what  to  answer  me.  And  if  I 
said,  Trust  in  God,  she  very  rightly  obeyed  me  not;  because 
that  most  dear  friend,  whom  she  had  lost,  was,  being  man, 
both  truer  and  better,  than  that  phantasm  she  was  bid  to  trust 
in.  Only  tears  were  sweet  to  me,  for  they  succeeded  my 
friend,  in  the  dearest  of  my  affections. 

And  now,  Lord,  these  things  are  passed  by,  and  time  hath 
assuaged  my  wound.  May  I  learn  from  Thee,  who  art  Truth, 
and  approach  the  ear  of  my  heart  unto  Thy  mouth,  that  Thou 
mayest  tell  me  why  weeping  is  sweet  to  the  miserable  ?  Hast 
Thou,  although  present  everywhere,  cast  away  our  misery  far 
from  Thee?  And  Thou  abidest  in  Thyself,  but  we  are  tossed 
about  in  divers  trials.  And  yet  unless  we  mourned  in  Thine 
ears,  we  should  have  no  hope  left.  Whence  then  is  sweet  fruit 
gathered  from  the  bitterness  of  life,  from  groaning,  tears, 
sighs,  and  complaints?  Doth  this  sweeten  it,  that  we  hope 
Thou  hearest  ?  This  is  true  of  prayer,  for  therein  is  a  long- 
ing to  approach  unto  Thee.  But  is  it  also  in  grief  for  a  thing 
lost,  and  the  sorrow  wherewith  I  was  then  overwhelmed  ? 
For  I  neither  hoped  he  should  return  to  life,  nor  did  I  desire 
this  with  my  tears;  but  I  wept  only  and  grieved.  For  I  was 
miserable,  and  had  lost  my  joy.  Or  is  weeping  indeed  a  bitter 
thing,  and  for  very  loathing  of  the  things,  which  we  before 
enjoyed,  does  it  then,  when  we  shrink  from  them,  please  us? 

Hut  what  speak  I  of  these  things?  for  now  is  no  time  to 
question,  but  to  confess  unto  Thee.  Wretched  I  was;  and 
wretched  is  every  soul  bound  by  the  friendship  of  perishable 
things;  he  is  torn  asunder  when  he  loses  them,  and  then  he 


SAINT  AUGUSTINE  297 

feels  the  wretchedness,  which  he  had,  ere  yet  he  lost  them. 
So  was  it  then  with  me ;  I  wept  most  bitterly,  and  found  my 
repose  in  bitterness.  Thus  was  I  wretched,  and  that  wretched 
life  I  held  dearer  than  my  friend.  For  though  I  would 
willingly  have  changed  it,  yet  was  I  more  unwilling  to  part 
with  it,  than  with  him ;  yea,  I  know  not  whether  I  would  have 
parted  with  it  even  for  him,  as  is  related  (if  not  feigned)  of 
Pylades  and  Orestes,  that  they  would  gladly  have  died  for  each 
other  or  together,  not  to  live  together  being  to  them  worse 
than  death.  But  in  me  there  had  arisen  some  unexplained 
feeling,  too  contrary  to  this,  for  at  once  I  loathed  exceedingly 
to  live,  and  feared  to  die.  I  suppose,  the  more  I  loved  him, 
the  more  did  I  hate,  and  fear  (as  a  most  cruel  enemy)  death, 
which  had  bereaved  me  of  him:  and  I  imagined  it  would 
speedily  make  an  end  of  all  men,  since  it  had  power  over  him. 
Thus  was  it  with  me,  I  remember.  Behold  my  heart,  O  my 
God,  behold  and  see  into  me;  for  well  I  remember  it,  O  my 
Hope,  who  cleansest  me  from  the  impurity  of  such  affections, 
directing  mine  eyes  towards  Thee,  and  plucking  my  feet  out 
of  the  snare.  For  I  wondered  at  others,  subject  to  death,  did 
live,  since  he  whom  I  loved,  as  if  he  should  never  die,  was 
dead :  and  I  wondered  yet  more  that  myself,  who  was  to  him 
a  second  self,  could  live,  he  being  dead.  Well  said  one  of 
his  friends,  ' '  Thou  half  of  my  soul : ' '  for  I  felt  that  my  soul 
and  his  soul  were  "one  soul  in  two  bodies:"  and  therefore 
was  my  life  a  horror  to  me,  because  I  would  not  live  halved. 
And  therefore  perchance  I  feared  to  die,  lest  he  whom  I  had 
much  loved,  should  die  wholly. 

O  madness,  which  knowest  not  how  to  love  men,  like  men ! 
0  foolish  man  that  I  then  was,  enduring  impatiently  the  lot 
of  man!  I  fretted  then,  sighed,  wept,  was  distracted;  had 
neither  rest  nor  counsel.  For  I  bore  about  a  shattered  and 
bleeding  soul,  impatient  of  being  borne  by  me,  yet  where  to 
repose  it,  I  found  not.  Not  in  calm  groves,  not  in  games  and 
music,  nor  in  fragrant  spots,  nor  in  curious  banquetings,  nor 
in  the  pleasures  of  the  bed  and  the  couch;  nor  (finally)  in 
books  or  poesy,  found  it  repose.  All  things  looked  ghastly, 
yea,  the  very  light;  whatsoever  was  not  what  he  was,  was 
revolting  and  hateful,  except  groaning  and  tears.  For  in 
those  alone  found  I  a  little  refreshment.  But  when  my  soul 


298 

was  withdrawn  from  them,  a  huge  load  of  misery  weighed  me 
down.  To  Thee,  O  Lord,  it  ought  to  have  been  raised,  for 
Thee  to  lighten ;  I  knew  it ;  but  neither  could  nor  would ;  the 
more,  since,  when  I  thought  of  Thee,  Thou  wert  not  to  me 
any  solid  or  substantial  thing.  For  Thou  wert  not  Thyself, 
but  a  mere  phantom,  and  my  error  was  my  God.  If  I  offered 
to  discharge  my  load  thereon,  that  it  might  rest,  it  glided 
through  the  void,  and  came  rushing  down  again  on  me ;  and 
I  had  remained  to  myself  a  hapless  spot,  where  I  could  neither 
be,  nor  be  from  thence.  For  whither  should  my  heart  flee 
from  my  heart  ?  Whither  should  I  flee  from  myself  ?  Whither 
not  follow  myself  ?  And  yet  I  fled  out  of  my  country ;  for  so 
should  mine  eyes  less  look  for  him,  where  they  were  not  wont 
to  see  him.  And  thus  from  Thagaste,  I  came  to  Carthage. 

Times  lose  no  time ;  nor  do  they  roll  idly  by ;  through  our 
senses  they  work  strange  operations  on  the  mind.  Behold, 
they  went  and  came  day  by  day,  and  by  coming  and  going, 
introduced  into  my  mind  other  imaginations,  and  other  re- 
membrances; and  little  by  little  patched  me  up  again  with 
my  old  kind  of  delights,  unto  which  that  my  sorrow  gave  way. 
And  yet  there  succeeded,  not  indeed  other  griefs,  yet  the 
causes  of  other  griefs.  For  whence  had  that  former  grief  so 
easily  reached  my  very  inmost  soul,  but  that  I  had  poured  out 
my  soul  upon  the  dust,  in  loving  one  that  must  die,  as  if  he 
would  never  die?  For  what  restored  and  refreshed  me 
chiefly,  was  the  solaces  of  other  friends,  with  whom  I  did 
love,  what  instead  of  Thee  I  loved :  and  this  was  a  great 
fable,  and  protracted  lie,  by  whose  adulterous  stimulus,  our 
soul,  which  lay  itching  in  our  ears,  was  being  defiled.  But 
that  fable  would  not  die  to  me,  so  oft  as  any  of  my  friends 
died.  There  were  other  things  which  in  them  did  more  take 
my  mind ;  to  talk  and  jest  together,  to  do  kind  offices  by 
turns;  to  read  together  honied  books;  to  play  the  fool  or  be 
earnest  together ;  to  dissent  at  times  without  discontent,  as  a 
man  might  with  his  own  self;  and  even  with  the  seldomness 
of  these  dissentings,  to  season  our  more  frequent  consentings ; 
sometimes  to  teach,  and  sometimes  learn ;  long  for  the  absent 
with  impatience;  and  welcome  the  coming  with  joy.  These 
and  the  like  expressions,  proceeding  out  of  the  hearts  of  those 
that  loved  and  were  loved  again,  by  the  countenance,  the 


SAINT  AUGUSTINE  299 

tongue,  the  eyes,  and  a  thousand  pleasing  gestures,  were  so 
much  fuel  to  melt  our  souls  together,  and  make  but  one. 

This  is  it  that  is  loved  in  friends;  and  so  loved,  that  a 
man's  conscience  condemns  itself,  if  he  love  not  him  that 
loves  him  again,  or  love  not  again  him  that  loves  him,  looking 
for  nothing  from  his  person,  but  indications  of  his  love. 
Hence  that  mourning,  if  one  die,  and  darkenings  of  sorrows, 
that  steeping  of  the  heart  in  tears,  all  sweetness  turned  to 
bitterness ;  and  upon  the  loss  of  life  of  the  dying,  the  death  of 
the  living.  Blessed  whoso  loveth  Thee,  and  his  friend  in 
Thee,  and  his  enemy  for  Thee.  For  he  alone  loses  none  dear 
to  him,  to  whom  all  are  dear  in  Him  Who  cannot  be  lost. 
And  who  is  this  but  our  God,  the  God  that  made  heaven  and 
earth,  and  filleth  them,  because  by  filling  them  He  created 
them  ?  Thee  none  loseth,  but  who  leaveth.  And  who  leaveth 
Thee,  whither  goeth  or  whither  fleeth  he,  but  from  Thee  well- 
pleased,  to  Thee  displeased  ?  For  where  doth  he  not  find  Thy 
law  in  his  own  punishment?  And  Thy  law  is  truth,  and 
truth  Thou. 

These  things  I  then  knew  not,  and  I  loved  these  lower 
beauties,  and  I  was  sinking  to  the  very  depths,  and  to  my 
friends  I  said,  "do  we  love  anything  but  the  beautiful? 
What  then  is  the  beautiful  ?  and  what  is  beauty  ?  What  is  it 
that  attracts  and  wins  us  to  the  things  we  love?  for  unless 
there  were  in  them  a  grace  and  beauty,  they  could  by  no 
means  draw  us  unto  them."  And  I  marked  and  perceived 
that  in  bodies  themselves  there  was  a  beauty,  from  their 
forming  a  sort  of  whole,  and  again,  another  from  apt  and 
mutual  correspondence,  as  of  a  part  of  the  body  with  its 
whole,  or  a  shoe  with  a  foot,  and  the  like.  And  this  considera- 
tion sprang  up  in  my  mind,  out  of  my  inmost  heart,  and  I 
wrote  "on  the  fair  and  fit,"  I  think,  two  or  three  books. 
Thou  knowest,  O  Lord,  for  it  is  gone  from  me;  for  I  have 
them  not,  but  they  are  strayed  from  me,  I  know  not  how. 

But  what  moved  me,  O  Lord  my  God,  to  dedicate  these 
books  unto  Hierius,  an  orator  of  Rome,  whom  I  knew  not  by 
face,  but  loved  for  the  fame  of  his  learning  which  was  eminent 
in  him,  and  some  words  of  his  I  had  heard,  which  pleased  me  ? 
But  more  did  he  please  me,  for  that  he  pleased  others,  who 
highly  extolled  him,  amazed  that  out  of  a  Syrian,  first  in- 


300  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

structed  in  Greek  eloquence,  should  afterwards  be  formed  a 
wonderful  Latin  orator,  and  one  most  learned  in  things  per- 
taining unto  philosophy.  One  is  commended,  and,  unseen,  he 
is  loved :  doth  this  love  enter  the  heart  of  the  hearer  from 
the  mouth  of  the  commender?  Not  so.  But  by  one  who  loveth 
is  another  kindled.  For  hence  he  is  loved,  who  is  commended, 
when  the  commender  is  believed  to  extol  him  with  an  un- 
feigned heart ;  that  is,  when  one  that  loves  him,  praises  him. 

I  was  then  some  six  or  seven  and  twenty  years  old  when  I 
wrote  those  volumes ;  revolving  within  me  corporeal  fictions, 
buzzing  in  the  ears  of  my  heart,  which  I  turned,  O  sweet 
truth,  to  thy  inward  melody,  meditating  on  the  "fair  and  fit," 
and  longing  to  stand  and  hearken  to  Thee,  and  to  rejoice 
greatly  at  the  Bridegroom's  voice,  but  could  not;  for  by  the 
voices  of  mine  own  errors,  I  was  hurried  abroad,  and  through 
the  weight  of  my  own  pride,  I  was  sinking  into  the  lowest  pit. 
For  Thou  didst  not  make  me  to  hear  joy  and  gladness,  nor 
did  the  bones  exult  which  were  not  yet  humbled. 

And  what  did  it  profit  me,  that  scarce  twenty  years  old,  a 
book  of  Aristotle,  which  they  call  the  ten  Predicaments, 
falling  into  my  hands,  (on  whose  very  name  I  hung,  as  on 
something  great  and  divine,  so  often  as  my  rhetoric  master  of 
Carthage,  and  others,  accounted  learn'ed,  mouthed  it  with 
cheeks  bursting  with  pride,)  I  read  and  understood  it  un- 
aided? And  on  my  conferring  with  others,  who  said  that 
they  scarcely  understood  it  with  very  able  tutors,  not  only 
orally  explaining  it,  but  drawing  many  things  in  sand,  they 
could  tell  me  no  more  of  it  than  I  had  learned,  reading  it 
by  myself.  And  the  book  appeared  to  me  to  speak  very 
clearly  of  substances,  such  as  "man,"  and  of  their  qualities, 
as  the  figure  of  a  man,  of  what  sort  it  is;  and  stature,  how 
many  feet  high;  and  his  relationship,  whose  brother  he  is; 
or  where  placed  ;  or  when  born  ;  or  whether  he  stands  or  sits ; 
or  be  shod  or  armed ;  or  does,  or  suffers  anything;  and  all  the 
innumerable  things  which  might  be  ranged  under  these  nine 
Predicaments,'5  of  which  I  have  given  some  specimens,  or 
under  that  chief  Predicament  of  Substance. 

1  All  the  relations  of  things  were  comprised  by  Aristotle  under  nine 
heads;  quantity,  quality,  relation,  action,  passion,  where,  when,  situation, 
clothing;  and  these  with  that  wherein  they  might  be  found,  or  "sub- 
stance, ' '  make  up  the  ten  categories  or  predicaments. 


SAINT  AUGUSTINE  301 

What  did  all  this  further  me,  seeing  it  even  hindered  me? 
when,  imagining  whatever  was,  was  comprehended  under 
those  ten  Predicaments,  I  essayed  in  such  wise  to  understand, 

0  my  God,  Thy  wonderful  and  unchangeable  Unity  also,  as 
if  Thou  also  hadst  been  subjected  to  Thine  own  greatness  or 
beauty;  so  that  (as  in  bodies)  they  should  exist  in  Thee,  as 
their  subject:  whereas  Thou  Thyself  art  Thy  greatness  and 
beauty;  but  a  body  is  not  great  or  fair  in  that  it  is  a  body, 
seeing  that,  though  it  were  less  great  or  fair,  it  should  not- 
withstanding be  a  body.    But  it  was  falsehood  which  of  Thee 

1  conceived,  not  truth ;  fictions  of  my  misery,  not  the  realities 
of  Thy  Blessedness.    For  Thou  hadst  commanded,  and  it  was 
done  in  me,  that  the  earth  should  bring  forth  briars  and 
thorns  to  me,  and  that  in  the  sweat  of  my  brows  I  should  eat 
my  bread. 

And  what  did  it  profit  me,  that  all  the  books  I  could  pro- 
cure of  the  so-called  liberal  arts,  I,  the  vile  slave  of  vile 
affections,  read  by  myself,  and  understood  ?  And  I  delighted 
in  them,  but  knew  not  whence  came  all,  that  therein  was  true 
or  certain.  For  I  had  my  back  to  the  light,  and  my  face  to 
the  things  enlightened;  whence  my  face,  with  which  I  dis- 
cerned the  things  enlightened,  itself  was  not'  enlightened. 
Whatever  was  written,  either  on  rhetoric,  or  logic,  geometry, 
music,  and  arithmetic,  by  myself  without  much  difficulty  or 
any  instructor,  I  understood,  Thou  knowest,  O  Lord  my  God ; 
because  both  quickness  of  understanding,  and  acuteness  in 
discerning,  is  Thy  gift :  yet  did  I  not  thence  sacrifice  to  Thee 
as  I  should  have. 

So  then  it  served  not  to  my  use,  but  rather  to  my  perdition, 
since  I  went  about  to  get  so  good  a  portion  of  my  substance 
into  my  own  keeping;  and  I  kept  not  my  strength  for  Thee, 
but  wandered  from  Thee  into  a  far  country,  to  spend  it  upon 
harlotries.  For  what  profited  me  good  abilities,  not  employed 
*to  good  uses?  For  I  felt  not  that  those  arts  were  attained 
with  great  difficulty,  even  by  the  studious  and  talented,  until 
I  attempted  to  explain  them  to  such ;  when  he  most  excelled 
in  them,  who  followed  me  not  altogether  slowly. 

But  what  did  this  further  me,  imagining  that  Thou,  O  Lord 
God,  the  Truth,  wert  a  vast  and  bright  body,  and  I  a  frag- 
ment of  that  body?  Perverseness  too  great!  But  such  was 


302  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

I.  Nor  do  I  blush,  0  ray  God,  to  confess  to  Thee  Thy  mercies 
towards  me,  and  to  call  upon  Thee,  who  blushed  not  then  to 
profess  to  men  my  blasphemies,  and  to  bark  against  Thee. 
What  profited  me  then  my  nimble  wit  in  those  sciences  and 
all  those  most  knotty  volumes,  unraveled  by  me,  without  aid 
from  human  instruction ;  seeing  I  erred  so  foully,  and  with 
such  sacrilegious  shamefulness,  in  the  doctrine  of  piety?  Or 
what  hindrance  was  a  far  slower  wit  to  Thy  little  ones,  since 
they  departed  not  far  from  Thee,  that  in  the  nest  of  Thy 
Church  they  might  securely  be  fledged,  and  nourish  the 
wings  of  charity,  by  the  food  of  a  sound  faith.  O  Lord  our 
God,  under  the  shadow  of  Thy  wings  let  us  hope;  protect  us, 
and  carry  us.  Thou  wilt  carry  us  both  when  little,  and  even 
to  hoar  hairs  wilt  Thou  carry  us;  for  our  firmness,  when  it 
is  Thou,  then  is  it  firmness ;  but  when  our  own,  it  is  infirmity. 
Our  good  ever  lives  with  Thee;  from  which  when  we  turn 
away,  we  are  turned  aside.  Let  us  now,  O  Lord,  return,  that 
we  may  not  be  overturned,  because  with  Thee  our  good  lives 
without  any  decay,  which  good  art  Thou ;  nor  need  we  fear, 
lest  there  be  no  place  whither  to  return,  because  we  fell  from 
it:  for  through  our  absence,  our  mansion  fell  not — Thy 
eternity. 

BOOK  v 

ACCEPT  the  sacrifice  of  my  confessions  from  the  ministry  of 
my  tongue,  which  Thou  hast  formed  and  stirred  up  to  confess 
unto  Thy  name.  Heal  Thou  all  my  bones,  and  let  them  say, 
0  Lord,  who  is  like  unto  Thee?  For  he  who  confesses  to 
Thee,  doth  not  teach  Thee  what  takes  place  within  him ; 
seeing  a  closed  heart  closes  not  out  Thy  eye,  nor  can  man's 
hard-heartedness  thrust  back  Thy  hand :  for  Thou  dissolvest 
it  at  Thy  will  in  pity  or  in  vengeance,  and  nothing  can  hide 
itself  from  Thy  heat.  But  let  my  soul  praise  Thee,  that  it 
may  love  Thee;  and  let  it  confess  Thy  own  mercies  to  Thee, • 
that  it  may  praise  Thee.  Thy  whole  creation  ceaseth  not,  nor 
is  silent  in  Thy  praises ;  neither  the  spirit  of  man  with  voice 
directed  unto  Thee,  nor  creation  animate  or  inanimate,  by 
the  voice  of  those  who  meditate  thereon :  that  so  our  souls  may 
from  their  weariness  arise  towards  Thee,  leaning  on  those 
things  which  Thou  hast  created,  and  passing  on  to  Thyself, 


SAINT  AUGUSTINE  303 

who  madest  them  wonderfully;  and  there  is  refreshment  and 
true  strength. 

Let  the  restless,  the  godless,  depart  and  flee  from  Thee ;  yet 
Thou  seest  them,  and  dividest  the  darkness.  And  behold,  the 
universe  with  them  is  fair,  though  they  are  foul.  And  how 
have  they  injured  Thee?  or  how  have  they  disgraced  Thy 
government,  which,  from  the  heaven  to  this  lowest  earth,  is 
just  and  perfect  ?  For  whither  fled  they,  when  they  fled  from 
Thy  presence?  Or  where  dost  not  Thou  find  them?  But  they 
fled,  that  they  might  not  see  Thee  seeing  them,  and,  blinded, 
might  stumble  against  Thee;  (because  Thau  forsakest  nothing 
Thou  hast  made;)  that  the  unjust,  I  say,  might  stumble  upon 
Thee,  and  justly  be  hurt ;  withdrawing  themselves  from  Thy 
gentleness,  and  stumbling  at  Thy  uprightness,  and  falling 
upon  their  own  ruggedness.  Ignorant,  in  truth,  that  Thou 
art  everywhere,  Whom  no  place  encompasseth !  and  Thou 
alone  art  near,  even  to  those  that  remove  far  from  Thee. 
Let  them  then  be  turned,  and  seek  Thee ;  because  not  as  they 
have  forsaken  their  Creator,  hast  Thou  forsaken  Thy  creation. 
Let  them  be  turned  and  seek  Thee ;  and  behold,  Thou  art 
there  in  their  heart,  in  the  heart  of  those  that  confess  to 
Thee,  and  cast  themselves  upon  Thee,  and  weep  in  Thy 
bosom,  after  all  their  rugged  ways.  Then  dost  Thou  gently 
wipe  away  their  tears,  and  they  weep  the  more,  and  joy  in 
weeping;  even  for  that  Thou,  Lord, — not  man  of  flesh  and 
blood,  but — Thou,  Lord,  who  madest  them,  re-makest  and 
comfortest  them.  But  where  was  I,  when  I  was  seeking 
Thee  ?  And  Thou  wert  before  me,  but  I  had  gone  away  from 
Thee;  nor  did  I  find  myself,  how  much  less  Thee! 

I  would  lay  open  before  my  God  that  nine  and  twentieth 
year  of  mine  age.  There  had  then  come  to  Carthage,  a  certain 
Bishop  of  the  Manichees,  Faustus  by  name,  a  great  snare  of 
the  Devil,  and  many  were  entangled  by  him  through  that  lure 
of  his  smooth  language:  which  though  I  did  commend,  yet 
could  I  separate  from  the  truth  of  the  things  which  I  was 
earnest  to  learn :  nor  did  I  so  much  regard  the  service  of 
oratory,  as  the  science  which  this  Faustus,  so  praised  among 
them,  set  before  me  to  feed  upon.  Fame  had  before  bespoken 
him  most  knowing  in  all  valuable  learning,  and  exquisitely 
skilled  in  the  liberal  sciences.  And  since  I  had  read  and  well 


304  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

remembered  much  of  the  philosophers,  I  compared  some 
things  of  theirs  with  those  long  fables  of  the  Manichees,  and 
found  the  former  the  more  probable. 

And  for  almost  all  those  nine  years,  wherein  with  unsettled 
mind  I  had  been  their  disciple,  I  had  longed  but  too  intensely 
for  the  coming  of  this  Faustus.  For  the  rest  of  the  sect, 
whom  by  chance  I  had  lighted  upon,  when  unable  to  solve 
my  objections  about  these  things,  still  held  out  to  me  the  com- 
ing of  this  Faustus,  by  conference  with  whom,  these  and 
greater  difficulties,  if  I  had  them,  were  to  be  most  readily  and 
abundantly  cleared.  When  then  he  came,  I  found  him  a  man 
of  pleasing  discourse,  and  who  could  speak  fluently  and  in 
better  terms,  yet  still  but  the  self-same  things  which  they 
were  wont  to  say.  But  what  availed  the  utmost  neatness  of 
the  cup-bearer  to  my  thirst  for  a  more  precious  draft?  Mine 
ears  were  already  cloyed  with  the  like,  nor  did  they  seem  to 
me  therefore  better,  because  better  said ;  nor  therefore  true, 
because  eloquent ;  nor  the  soul  therefore  wise,  because  the  face 
was  comely,  and  the  language  graceful.  But  they  who  held 
him  out  to  me,  were  no  good  judges  of  things ;  and  therefore 
to  them  he  appeared  understanding  and  wise,  because  in 
words  pleasing.  I  felt  however  that  another  sort  of  people 
were  suspicious  even  of  truth,  and  refused  to  assent  to  it, 
if  delivered  in  a  smooth  and  copious  discourse.  But  Thou, 
O  my  God,  hadst  already  taught  me  by  wonderful  and  secret 
ways,  and  therefore  I  believe  that  Thou  taughtest  me,  because 
it  is  truth,  nor  is  there  besides  Thee  any  teacher  of  truth, 
where  or  whencesoever  it  may  shine  upon  us.  Of  Thyself 
therefore  had  I  now  learned,  that  neither  ought  anything 
to  seem  to  be  spoken  truly,  because  eloquently ;  nor  therefore 
falsely,  because  the  utterance  of  the  lips  is  inharmonious; 
nor,  again,  therefore  true,  because  rudely  delivered ;  nor 
therefore  false,  because  the  language  is  rich ;  but  that  wisdom 
and  folly  are  as  wholesome  and  unwholesome  food ;  and 
adorned  or  unadorned  phrases,  as  courtly  or  country  vessels ; 
either  kind  of  meats  may  be  served  up  in  either  kind  of  dishes. 

That  greediness  then,  wherewith  I  had  of  so  long  time  ex- 
pected that  man,  was  delighted  verily  with  his  action  and 
feeling  when  disputing,  and  his  choice  and  readiness  of  words 
to  clothe  his  ideas.  I  was  then  delighted,  and,  with  many 


SAINT  AUGUSTINE  305 

others  and  more  than  they,  did  I  praise  and  extol  him.  It 
troubled  me,  however,  that  in  the  assembly  of  his  auditors, 
I  was  not  allowed  to  put  in,  and  communicate  those  questions 
that  troubled  me,  in  familiar  converse  with  him.  "Which 
when  I  might,  and  with  my  friends  began  to  engage  his  ears 
at  such  times  as  it  was  not  unbecoming  for  him  to  discuss 
with  me,  and  had  brought  forward  such  things  as  moved  me ; 
I  found  him  first  utterly  ignorant  of  liberal  sciences,  save 
grammar,  and  that  but  in  an  ordinary  way.  But  because  he 
had  read  some  of  Tully's  Orations,  a  very  few  books  of 
Seneca,  some  things  of  the  poets,  and  such  few  volumes  of  his 
own  sect  as  were  written  in  Latin  and  neatly,  and  was  daily 
practiced  in  speaking,  he  acquired  a  certain  eloquence,  which 
proved  the  more  pleasing  and  seductive,  because  under  the 
guidance  of  a  good  wit,  and  with  a  kind  of  natural  graceful- 
ness. Is  it  not  thus,  as  I  recall  it,  O  Lord  my  God,  Thou 
Judge  of  my  conscience?  Before  Thee  is  my  heart,  and  my 
remembrance,  Who  didst  at  that  time  direct  me  by  the  hidden 
mystery  of  Thy  providence,  and  didst  set  those  shameful 
errors  of  mine  before  my  face,  that  I  might  see  and  hate  them. 
For  after  it  was  clear,  that  he  was  ignorant  of  those  arts 
in  which  I  thought  he  excelled,  I  began  to  despair  of  his 
opening  and  solving  the  difficulties  which  perplexed  me;  (of 
which  indeed  however  ignorant,  he  might  have  held  the  truths 
of  piety,  had  he  not  been  a  Manichee).  For  their  books  are 
fraught  with  prolix  fables,  of  the  heaven,  and  stars,  sun,  and 
moon,  and  I  now  no  longer  thought  him  able  satisfactorily 
to  decide  what  I  much  desired,  whether,  on  comparison  of 
these  things  with  the  calculations  I  had  elsewhere  read,  the 
account  given  in  the  books  of  Manich£eus  were  preferable,  or 
at  least  as  good.  Which  when  I  proposed  to  be  considered  and 
discussed,  he,  so  far  modestly,  shrunk  from  the  burthen.  For 
he  knew  that  he  knew  not  these  things,  and  was  not  ashamed 
to  confess  it.  For  he  was  not  one  of  those  talking  persons, 
many  of  whom  I  had  endured,  who  undertook  to  teach  me 
these  things,  and  said  nothing.  But  this  man  had  a  heart, 
though  not  right  towards  Thee,  yet  neither  altogether  treach- 
erous to  himself.  For  he  was  not  altogether  ignorant  of  his 
own  ignorance,  nor  would  he  rashly  be  entangled  in  a  dis- 
pute, whence  he  could  neither  retreat,  nor  extricate  himself 
A.  v.  1—20 


306  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

fairly.  Even  for  this  I  liked  him  the  better.  For  fairer  is 
the  modesty  of  a  candid  mind,  than  the  knowledge  of  those 
things  which  I  desired ;  and  such  I  found  him,  in  all  the  more 
difficult  and  subtle  questions. 

My  zeal  for  the  writings  of  Manichaeus  being  thus  blunted, 
and  despairing  yet  more  of  their  other  teachers,  seeing  that 
in  divers  things  which  perplexed  me,  he,  so  renowned  among 
them,  had  so  turned  out ;  I  began  to  engage  with  him  in  the 
study  of  that  literature,  on  which  he  also  was  much  set,  (and 
which  as  rhetoric-reader  I  was  at  that  time  teaching  young 
students  at  Carthage,)  and  to  read  with  him,  either  what 
himself  desired  to  hear,  or  such  as  I  judged  fit  for  his  genius. 
But  all  my  efforts  whereby  I  had  purposed  to  advance  in  that 
sect,  upon  knowledge  of  that  man,  came  utterly  to  an  end ; 
not  that  I  detached  myself  from  them  altogether,  but  as  one 
finding  nothing  better,  I  had  settled  to  be  content  meanwhile 
with  what  I  had  in  whatever  way  fallen  upon,  unless  by 
chance  something  more  eligible  should  dawn  upon  me.  Thus 
that  Faustus,  to  so  many  a  snare  of  death,  had  now,  neither 
willing  nor  witting  it,  begun  to  loosen  that  wherein  I  was 
taken.  For  Thy  hands,  O  my  God,  in  the  secret  purpose  of 
Thy  providence,  did  not  forsake  ray  soul ;  and  out  of  my 
mother's  heart's  blood,  through  her  tears  night  and  day 
poured  out,  was  a  sacrifice  offered  for  me  unto  Thee;  and 
Thou  didst  deal  with  me  by  wondrous  ways.  Thou  didst  it,  O 
my  God :  for  the  steps  of  a  man  are  ordered  by  the  Lord,  and 
He  shall  dispose  his  way.  Or  how  shall  we  obtain  salvation, 
but  from  Thy  hand,  re-making  what  It  made  ? 

Thou  didst  deal  with  me,  that  I  should  be  persuaded  to  go 
to  Rome,  and  to  teach  there  rather,  what  I  was  teaching  at 
Carthage.  And  how  I  was  persuaded  to  this,  I  will  not  neg- 
lect to  confess  to  Thee :  because  herein  also  the  deepest  re- 
cesses of  Thy  wisdom,  and  Thy  most  present  mercy  to  us, 
must  be  considered  and  confessed.  I  did  not  wish  therefore 
to  go  to  Rome,  because  higher  gains  and  higher  dignities  were 
warranted  me  by  my  friends  who  persuaded  me  to  this, 
(though  even  these  things  had  at  that  time  an  influence  over 
my  mind.)  but  my  chief  and  almost  only  reason  was,  that  I 
heard  that  young  men  studied  there  more  peacefully,  and 
were  kept  quiet  under  a  restraint  of  more  regular  discipline; 


SAINT  AUGUSTINE  307 

so  that  they  did  not,  at  their  pleasures,  petulantly  rush  into 
the  school  of  one,  whose  pupils  they  were  not,  nor  were  even 
admitted  without  his  permission.  Whereas  at  Carthage,  there 
reigns  among  the  scholars  a  most  disgraceful  and  unruly 
license.  They  burst  in  audaciously,  and  with  gestures  almost 
frantic,  disturb  all  order  which  any  one  hath  established  for 
the  good  of  his  scholars.  Divers  outrages  they  commit,  with 
a  wonderful  stolidity,  punishable  by  law,  did  not  custom  up- 
hold them ;  that  custom  evincing  them  to  be  the  more  miser- 
able, in  that  they  now  do  as  lawful,  what  by  Thy  eternal 
law  shall  never  be  lawful ;  and  they  think  they  do  it  unpun- 
ished, whereas  they  are  punished  with  the  very  blindness 
whereby  they  do  it,  and  suffer  incomparably  worse  than 
what  they  do.  The  manners  then  which,  when  a  student,  I 
would  not  make  my  own,  I  was  fain,  as  a  teacher,  to  endure  in 
others :  and  so  I  was  well  pleased  to  go  where,  all  that  knew 
it,  assured  me  that  the  like  was  not  done.  But  Thou,  my 
refuge  and  my  portion  in  the  land  of  the  living,  that  I  might 
change  my  earthly  dwelling  for  the  salvation  of  my  soul,  at 
Carthage  didst  goad  me,  that  I  might  thereby  be  torn  from  it ; 
and  at  Home  didst  proffer  me  allurements,  whereby  I  might 
be  drawn  thither,  by  men  in  love  with  a  dying  life,  the  one 
doing  frantic,  the  other  promising  vain,  things;  and,  to  cor- 
rect my  steps,  didst  secretly  use  their  and  my  own  perverse- 
ness.  For  both  they  who  disturbed  my  quiet,  were  blinded 
with  a  disgraceful  frenzy,  and  they  who  invited  me  else- 
where, savored  of  earth.  And  I,  who  here  detested  real  mis- 
ery, was  there  seeking  unreal  happiness. 

But  why  I  went  hence,  and  went  thither,  Thou  knewest,  O 
God,  yet  shewedst  it  neither  to  me,  nor  to  my  mother,  who 
grievously  bewailed  my  journey,  and  followed  me  as  far  as 
the  sea.  But  I  deceived  her,  holding  me  by  force,  that  either 
she  might  keep  me  back,  or  go  with  me,  and  I  feigned  that  I 
had  a  friend  whom  I  could  not  leave,  till  he  had  a  fair  wind 
to  sail.  And  I  lied  to  my  mother,  and  such  a  mother,  and 
escaped:  for  this  also  hast  Thou  mercifully  forgiven  me, 
preserving  me,  thus  full  of  execrable  defilements,  from  the 
waters  of  the  sea,  for  the  water  of  Thy  Grace ;  whereby  when 
I  was  cleansed,  the  streams  of  my  mother's  eyes  should  be 
dried,  with  which  for  me  she  daily  watered  the  ground  under 


308  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

her  face.  And  yet  refusing  to  return  without  me,  I  scarcely 
persuaded  her  to  stay  that  night  in  a  place  hard  by  our  ship, 
where  was  an  Oratory  in  memory  of  the  blessed  Cyprian. 
That  night  I  privily  departed,  but  she  was  not  behind  in 
weeping  and  prayer.  And  what,  0  Lord,  was  she  with  so 
many  tears  asking  of  Thee,  but  that  Thou  wouldest  not  suffer 
me  to  sail?  But  Thou,  in  the  depth  of  Thy  counsels  and 
hearing  the  main  point  of  her  desire,  regardest  not  what  she 
then  asked,  that  Thou  mightest  make  me  what  she  ever  asked. 
The  wind  blew  and  swelled  our  sails,  and  withdrew  the  shore 
from  our  sight;  and  she  on  the  morrow  was  there,  frantic 
with  sorrow,  and  with  complaints  and  groans  filled  Thine  ears, 
who  didst  then  disregard  them;  whilst  through  my  desires, 
Thou  wert  hurrying  me  to  end  all  desire,  and  the  earthly 
part  of  her  affection  to  me  was  chastened  by  the  allotted 
scourge  of  sorrows.  For  she  loved  my  being  with  her,  as 
mothers  do,  but  much  more  than  many;  and  she  knew  not 
how  great  joy  Thou  wert  about  to  work  for  her  out  of  my 
absence.  She  knew  not;  therefore  did  she  weep,  and  wail, 
and  by  this  agony  there  appeared  in  her  the  inheritance  of 
Eve,  with  sorrow  seeking,  what  in  sorrow  she  had  brought 
forth.  And  yet,  after  accusing  my  treachery  and  hardheart- 
edness,  she  betook  herself  again  to  intercede  to  Thee  for  me, 
went  to  her  wonted  place,  and  I  to  Rome. 

And  lo,  there  was  I  received  by  the  scourge  of  bodily  sick- 
ness, and  I  was  going  down  to  hell,  carrying  all  the  sins 
which  I  had  committed,  both  against  Thee,  and  myself,  and 
others,  many  and  grievous,  over  and  above  that  bond  of  origi- 
nal sin,  whereby  we  all  die  in  Adam.  For  Thou  hadst  not 
forgiven  me  any  of  these  things  in  Christ,  nor  had  He  abol- 
ished by  His  cross  the  enmity  which  by  my  sins  I  had  incurred 
with  Thee.  For  how  should  He,  by  the  crucifixion  of  a  phan- 
tasm, which  I  believed  Him  to  be?  So  true,  then,  was  the 
death  of  my  soul,  as  that  of  His  flesh  seemed  to  me  false; 
and  how  true  the  death  of  His  body,  so  false  was  the  life 
of  my  soul,  which  did  not  believe  it.  And  now  the  fever 
heightening,  I  was  parting  and  departing  forever.  For  had 
I  then  parted  hence,  whither  had  I  departed,  but  into  fire 
and  torments,  such  as  my  misdeeds  deserved  in  the  truth  of 
Thy  appointment?  And  this  she  knew  not,  yet  in  absence 


SAINT  AUGUSTINE  309 

prayed  for  me.  But  Thou,  everywhere  present,  heardest  her 
where  she  was,  and,  where  I  was,  hadst  compassion  upon  me ; 
that  I  should  recover  the  health  of  my  body,  though  frenzied 
as  yet  in  my  sacrilegious  heart.  For  I  did  not  in  all  that 
danger  desire  Thy  baptism ;  and  I  was  better  as  a  boy,  when 
I  begged  it  of  my  mother's  piety,  as  I  have  before  recited 
and  confessed.  But  I  had  grown  up  to  my  own  shame,  and 
I  madly  scoffed  at  the  prescripts  of  Thy  medicine,  who 
wouldest  not  suffer  me,  being  such,  to  die  a  double  death. 
With  which  wound  had  my  mother's  heart  been  pierced,  it 
could  never  be  healed.  For  I  cannot  express  the  affection  she 
bare  to  me,  and  with  how  much  more  vehement  anguish  she 
was  now  in  labor  of  me  in  the  spirit,  than  at  her  childbearing 
in  the  flesh. 

I  see  not  then  how  she  should  have  been  healed,  had  such 
a  death  of  mine  stricken  through  the  bowels  of  her  love.  And 
where  would  have  been  those  her  so  strong  and  unceasing 
prayers,  unintermitting  to  Thee  alone?  But  wouldest  Thou, 
God  of  mercies,  despise  the  contrite  and  humbled  heart  of 
that  chaste  and  sober  widow,  so  frequent  in  almsdeeds,  so  full 
of  duty  and  service  to  Thy  saints,  no  day  intermitting  the 
oblation  at  Thine  altar,  twice  a  day,  morning  and  evening, 
without  any  intermission,  coming  to  Thy  church,  not  for  idle 
tattling  and  old  wives'  fables;  but  that  she  might  hear  Thee 
in  Thy  discourses,  and  Thou  her,  in  her  prayers.  Couldest 
Thou  despise  and  reject  from  Thy  aid  the  tears  of  such  an 
one,  wherewith  she  begged  of  Thee  not  gold  or  silver,  nor 
any  mutable  or  passing  good,  but  the  salvation  of  her  son's 
soul  ?  Thou,  by  whose  gift  she  was  such  ?  Never,  Lord.  Yea, 
Thou  wert  at  hand,  and  wert  hearing  and  doing,  in  that  order 
wherein  Thou  hadst  determined  before,  that  it  should  be 
done.  Far  be  it  that  Thou  shouldest  deceive  her  in  Thy 
visions  and  answers,  some  whereof  I  have,  some  I  have  not 
mentioned,  which  she  laid  up  in  her  faithful  heart,  and  ever 
praying,  urged  upon  Thee,  as  Thine  own  handwriting.  For 
TJiou,  because  Thy  mercy  endureth  forever,  vouchsafest  to 
those  to  whom  Thou  forgivest  all  their  debts,  to  become  also 
a  debtor  by  Thy  promises. 

Thou  recoveredst  me  then  of  that  sickness,  and  healedst 
the  son  of  Thy  handmaid,  for  the  time  in  body,  that  he  might 


310  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

live,  for  Thee  to  bestow  upon  him  a  better  and  more  abiding 
health.  And  even  then,  at  Rome,  I  joined  myself  to  those 
deceiving  and  deceived  "holy  ones;"  not  with  their  disciples 
only,  (of  which  number  was  he,  in  whose  house  I  had  fallen 
sick  and  recovered ;)  but  also  with  those  whom  they  call  "The 
Elect."  For  I  still  thought,  "that  it  was  not  we  that  sin,  but 
that  I  know  not  what  other  nature  sinned  in  us;"  and  it  de- 
lighted my  pride,  to  be  free  from  blame ;  and  when  I  had  done 
any  evil,  not  to  confess  I  had  done  any,  that  Thou  mightest 
heal  my  soul  because  it  had  sinned  against  Thee:  but  I  loved 
to  excuse  it,  and  to  accuse  I  know  not  what  other  thing, 
which  was  with  me,  but  which  I  was  not.  But  in  truth  it  was 
wholly  I,  and  mine  impiety  had  divided  me  against  myself: 
and  that  sin  was  the  more  incurable,  whereby  I  did  not  judge 
myself  a  sinner;  and  execrable  iniquity  it  was,  that  I  had 
rather  have  Thee,  Thee,  O  God  Almighty,  to  be  overcome  in 
me  to  my  destruction,  than  myself  of  Thee  to  salvation.  Not 
as  yet  then  hadst  Thou  set  a  watch  before  my  mouth,  and  a 
door  of  safe  keeping  around  my  lips,  that  my  heart  might  not 
turn  aside  to  wicked  speeches,  to  make  excuses  of  sins,  with 
men  that  work  iniquity:  and,  therefore,  was  I  still  united  with 
their  Elect. 

But  now  despairing  to  make  proficiency  in  that  false  doc- 
trine, even  those  things  (with  which  if  I  should  find  no  better, 
I  had  resolved  to  rest  contented)  I  now  held  more  laxly  and 
carelessly.  For  there  half  arose  a  thought  in  me,  that  those 
philosophers,  whom  they  call  Academics,  were  wiser  than  the 
rest,  for  that  they  held,  men  ought  to  doubt  everything,  and 
laid  down  that  no  truth  can  be  comprehended  by  man :  for 
so,  not  then  understanding  even  their  meaning,  I  also  was 
clearly  convinced  that  they  thought,  as  they  are  commonly  * 
reported.  Yet  did  I  freely  and  openly  discourage  that  host 
of  mine  from  that  over-confidence  which  I  perceived  him  to 
have  in  those  fables,  which  the  books  of  Manichieus  are  full 
of.  Yet  I  lived  in  more  familiar  friendship  with  them,  than 
with  others  who  were  not  of  this  heresy.  Nor  did  I  maintain 
it  with  my  ancient  eagerness ;  still  my  intimacy  with  that  sect 

1  The  ordinary  opinion  as  to  the  Academics,  was  that  they  were  uni- 
versal skeptics;  S.  Aug.  states  his  conviction  that  they  held,  concealed, 
positive  truth,  but  publicly  contented  themselves  with  refuting  the  op- 
posed errors. 


SAINT  AUGUSTINE  311 

(Rome  secretly  harboring  many  of  them)  made  me  slower 
to  seek  any  other  way :  especially  since  I  despaired  of  finding 
the  truth,  from  which  they  had  turned  me  aside,  in  Thy 
Church,  O  Lord  of  heaven  and  earth,  Creator  of  all  things 
visible  and  invisible:  and  it  seemed  to  me  very  unseemly  to 
believe  Thee  to  have  the  shape  of  human  flesh,  and  to  be 
bounded  by  the  bodily  lineaments  of  our  members.  And  be- 
cause, when  I  wished  to  think  on  my  God,  I  knew  not  what  to 
think  of,  but  a  mass  of  bodies,  (for  what  was  not  such,  did 
not  seem  to  me  to  be  anything, )  this  was  the  greatest,  and  al- 
most only  cause  of  my  inevitable  error. 

For  hence  I  believed  Evil  also  to  be  some  such  kind  of 
substance,  and  to  have  its  own  foul,  and  hideous  bulk; 
whether  gross,  which  they  called  earth,  or  thin  and  subtile, 
(like  the  body  of  the  air,)  which  they  imagine  to  be  some 
malignant  mind,  creeping  through  that  earth.  And  because  a 
piety,  such  as  it  was,  constrained  me  to  believe,  that  the  good 
God  never  created  any  evil  nature,  I  conceived  two  masses, 
contrary  to  one  another,  both  unbounded,  but  the  evil  nar- 
rower, the  good  more  expansive.  And  from  this  pestilent 
beginning,  the  other  sacrilegious  conceits  followed  on  me. 
For  when  my  mind  endeavored  to  recur  to  the  Catholic  faith, 
I  was  driven  back,  since  that  was  not  the  Catholic  faith, 
which  I  thought  to  be  so.  And  I  seemed  to  myself  more 
reverential,  if  I  believed  of  Thee,  my  God,  (to  whom  Thy 
mercies  confess  out  of  my  mouth,)  as  unbounded,  at  least  on 
other  sides,  although  on  that  one  where  the  mass  of  evil  was 
opposed  to  Thee,  I  was  constrained  to  confess  Thee  bounded ; 
than  if  on  all  sides  I  should  imagine  Thee  to  be  bounded  by 
the  form  of  a  human  body.  And  it  seemed  to  me  better  to 
believe  Thee  to  have  created  no  evil,  (which  to  me  ignorant 
seemed  not  some  only,  but  a  bodily,  substance,  because  I 
could  not  conceive  of  mind,  unless  as  a  subtile  body,  and  that 
diffused  in  definite  spaces,)  than  to  believe  the  nature  of  evil, 
such  as  I  conceived  it,  could  come  from  Thee.  Yea,  and  our 
Savior  Himself,  Thy  Only  Begotten,  I  believed  to  have  been 
reached  forth  (as  it  were)  for  our  salvation,  out  of  the  mass 
of  Thy  most  lucid  substance,  so  as  to  believe  nothing  of  Him, 
but  what  I  could  imagine  in  my  vanity.  His  Nature  then, 
being  such,  I  thought  could  not  be  born  of  the  Virgin  Mary, 


312  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

without  being  mingled  with  the  flesh :  and  how  that  which  I 
had  so  figured  to  myself,  could  be  mingled,  and  not  defiled,  I 
saw  not.  I  feared  therefore  to  believe  Him  born  in  the  flesh, 
lest  I  should  be  forced  to  believe  Him  defiled  by  the  flesh. 
Now  will  Thy  spiritual  ones  mildly  and  lovingly  smile  upon 
me,  if  they  shall  read  these  my  confessions.  Yet  such  was  I 
at  that  time. 

Furthermore,  what  the  Manichees  had  criticized  in  Thy 
Scriptures,  I  thought  could  not  be  defended ;  yet  at  times 
verily  I  had  a  wish  to  confer  upon  these  several  points  with 
some  one  very  well  skilled  in  those  books,  and  to  make  trial 
what  he  thought  thereon :  for  the  words  of  one  Helpidius,  as 
he  spoke  and  disputed  face  to  face  against  the  said  Mani- 
chees, had  begun  to  stir  me  even  at  Carthage :  in  that  he  had 
produced  things  out  of  the  Scriptures,  not  easily  withstood, 
the  Manichees'  answer  whereto  seemed  to  me  weak.  And 
this  answer  they  liked  not  to  give  publicly,  but  only  to  us  in 
private.  It  was,  that  the  Scriptures  of  the  New  Testament 
had  been  corrupted  by  I  know  not  whom,  who  wished  to 
engraft  the  law  of  the  Jews  upon  the  Christian  faith:  yet 
themselves  produced  not  any  uncorrupted  copies.  But  I, 
conceiving  of  things  corporeal  only,  was  mainly  held  down, 
vehemently  oppressed  and  in  a  manner  suffocated  by  those 
"masses;"  panting  under  which  after  the  breath  of  Thy 
truth,  I  could  not  breathe  it  pure  and  untainted. 

I  began  then  diligently  to  practice  that  for  which  I  came 
to  Rome,  to  teach  rhetoric;  and  first,  to  gather  some  to  my 
house,  to  whom,  and  through  whom,  I  had  begun  to  be  known ; 
when  lo,  I  found  other  offenses  committed  in  Rome,  to  which 
I  was  not  exposed  in  Africa.  True,  those  "subvertings"  by 
profligate  young  men,  were  not  here  practiced,  as  was  told 
me:  but  on  a  sudden,  said  they,  to  avoid  paying  their  master's 
stipend,  a  number  of  youths  plot  together,  and  remove  to  an- 
other;— breakers  of  faith,  who  for  love  of  money  hold  justice 
cheap.  These  also  my  heart  hated,  though  not  with  a  perfect 
hatred:  for  perchance  I  hated  them  more  because  I  was  to 
suffer  by  them,  than  because  they  did  things  utterly  unlawful. 
Of  a  truth  such  are  base  persons,  and  they  go  a  whoring  from 
Thee,  loving  these  fleeting  mockeries  of  things  temporal,  and 
filthy  lucre,  which  fouls  the  hand  that  grasps  it ;  hugging  the 


SAINT  AUGUSTINE  313 

fleeting  world,  and  despising  Thee,  who  abidest,  and  recallest, 
and  forgivest  the  adulteress  soul  of  man,  when  she  returns  to 
Thee.  And  now  I  hate  such  depraved  and  crooked  persons, 
though  I  love  them  if  corrigible,  so  as  to  prefer  to  money 
the  learning,  which  they  acquire,  and  to  learning,  Thee,  O 
God,  the  truth  and  fullness  of  assured  good,  and  most  pure 
peace.  But  then  I  rather  for  my  own  sake  misliked  them 
evil,  than  liked  and  wished  them  good  for  Thine. 

When  therefore  they  of  Milan  had  sent  to  Rome  to  the 
prefect  of  the  city,  to  furnish  them  with  a  rhetoric  reader 
for  their  city,  and  send  him  at  the  public  expense,  I  made  ap- 
plication (through  those  very  persons,  intoxicated  with 
Manichgean  vanities,  to  be  freed  wherefrom  I  was  to  go, 
neither  of  us  however  knowing  it)  that  Symmachus,  then 
prefect  of  the  city,  would  try  me  by  setting  me  some  subject, 
and  so  send  me.  To  Milan  I  came,  to  Ambrose  the  Bishop, 
known  to  the  whole  world  as  among  the  best  of  men,  Thy 
devout  servant ;  whose  eloquent  discourse  did  then  plentifully 
dispense  unto  Thy  people  the  flour  of  Thy  wheat,  the  gladness 
of  Thy  oil,  and  the  sober  inebriation  of  Thy  wine.  To  him 
was  I  unknowing  led  by  Thee,  that  by  him  I  might  knowingly 
be  led  to  Thee.  That  man  of  God  received  me  as  a  father,  and 
shewed  me  an  Episcopal  kindness  on  my  coming.  Thenceforth 
I  began  to  love  him,  at  first  indeed  not  as  a  teacher  of  the 
truth,  (which  I  utterly  despaired  of  in  Thy  Church,)  but  as 
a  person  kind  towards  myself.  And  I  listened  diligently  to 
him  preaching  to  the  people,  not  with  that  intent  I  ought,  but, 
as  it  were,  trying  his  eloquence,  whether  it  answered  the  fame 
thereof,  or  flowed  fuller  or  lower  than  was  reported;  and  I 
hung  on  his  words  attentively ;  but  of  the  matter  I  was  as  a 
careless  and  scornful  looker-on ;  and  I  was  delighted  with  the 
sweetness  of  his  discourse,  more  recondite,  yet  in  manner, 
less  winning  and  harmonious,  than  that  of  Faustus.  Of  the 
matter,  however,  there  was  no  comparison;  for  the  one  was 
wandering  amid  Manichaean  delusions,  the  other  teaching  sal- 
vation most  soundly.  But  salvation  is  far  from  sinners,  such 
as  I  then  stood  before  him ;  and  yet  was  I  drawing  nearer  by 
little  and  little,  and  unconsciously. 

For  though  I  took  no  pains  to  learn  what  he  spake,  but 
only  to  hear  how  he  spake;  (for  that  empty  care  alone  was 


3U  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

left  me,  despairing  of  a  way,  open  for  man,  to  Thee,)  yet 
together  with  the  words  which  I  would  choose,  came  also  into 
my  mind  the  things  which  I  would  refuse;  for  I  could  not 
separate  them.  And  while  I  opened  my  heart  to  admit  "how 
eloquently  he  spake,"  there  also  entered  "how  truly  he 
spake;"  but  this  by  degrees.  For  first,  these  things  also  had 
now  begun  to  appear  to  me  capable  of  defense;  and  the 
Catholic  faith,  for  which  I  had  thought  nothing  could  be 
said  against  the  Manichees'  objections,  I  now  thought  might 
be  maintained  without  shamelessness ;  especially  after  I  had 
heard  one  or  two  places  of  the  Old  Testament  resolved,  and 
ofttimes  "in  a  figure,"  which  when  I  understood  literally,  I 
was  slain  spiritually.  Very  many  places  then  of  those  books 
having  been  explained,  I  now  blamed  my  despair,  in  believing, 
that  no  answer  could  be  given  to  such  as  hated  and  scoffed 
at  the  Law  and  the  Prophets.  Yet  did  I  not  therefore  then 
see,  that  the  Catholic  way  was  to  be  held,  because  it  also  could 
find  learned  maintainers,  who  could  at  large  and  with  some 
shew  of  reason  answer  objections;  nor  that  what  I  held  was 
therefore  to  be  condemned,  because  both  sides  could  be  main- 
tained. For  the  Catholic  cause  seemed  to  me  in  such  sort 
not  vanquished,  as  still  not  as  yet  to  be  victorious. 

Hereupon  I  earnestly  bent  my  mind,  to  see  if  in  any  way  I 
could  by  any  certain  proof  convict  the  Manichees  of  false- 
hood. Could  I  once  have  conceived  a  spiritual  substance,  all 
their  strongholds  had  been  beaten  down,  and  cast  utterly  out 
of  my  mind ;  but  I  could  not.  Notwithstanding,  concerning 
the  frame  of  this  world,  and  the  whole  of  nature,  which  the 
senses  of  the  flesh  can  reach  to,  as  I  more  and  more  considered 
and  compared  things,  I  judged  the  tenets  of  most  of  the 
philosophers  to  have  been  much  more  probable.  So  then 
after  the  manner  of  the  Academics  (as  they  are  supposed) 
doubting  of  everything,  and  wavering  between  all,  I  settled 
so  far,  that  the  Manichees  were  to  be  abandoned ;  judging 
that,  even  while  doubting,  I  might  not  continue  in  that  sect, 
to  which  I  already  preferred  some  of  the  philosophers;  to 
which  philosophers  notwithstanding,  for  that  they  were  with- 
out the  saving  Name  of  Christ,  I  utterly  refused  to  commit 
the  cure  of  my  sick  soul.  I  determined  therefore  so  long  to 
be  a  Catechumen  in  the  Catholic  Church,  to  which  I  had  been 


SAINT  AUGUSTINE  315 

commended  by  my   parents,   till  something  certain   should 
dawn  upon  me,  whither  I  might  steer  my  course. 

BOOK  VI 

0  Thou,  my  hope  from  my  youth,  where  wert  Thou  to  me, 
and  whither  wert  Thou  gone?    Hadst  not  Thou  created  me, 
and  separated  me  from  the  beasts  of  the  field,  and  fowls  of 
the  air  ?    Thou  hadst  made  me  wiser,  yet  did  I  walk  in  dark- 
ness, and  in  slippery  places,  and  sought  Thee  abroad  out  of 
myself,  and  found  not  the  God  of  my  heart ;  and  had  come 
into  the  depths  of  the  sea,  and  distrusted  and  despaired  of 
ever  finding  truth.    My  mother  had  now  come  to  me,  resolute 
through  piety,  following  me  over  sea  and  land,  in  all  perils 
confiding  in  Thee.    For  in  perils  of  the  sea,  she  comforted  the 
very  mariners,  (by  whom  passengers  unacquainted  with  the 
deep,  use  rather  to  be  comforted  when  troubled,)   assuring 
them  of  a  safe  arrival,  because  Thou  hadst  by  a  vision  assured 
her  thereof.    She  found  me  in  grievous  peril,  through  despair 
of  ever  finding  truth.    But  when  I  had  discovered  to  her,  that 

1  was  now  no  longer  a  Manichee,  though  not  yet  a  Catholic 
Christian,  she  was  not  overjoyed,  as  at  something  unexpected ; 
although  she  was  now  assured  concerning  that  part  of  my 
misery,  for  which  she  bewailed  me  as  one  dead,  though  to  be 
reawakened  by  Thee,  carrying  me  forth  upon  the  bier  of  her 
thoughts,  that  Thou  mightest  say  to  the  son  of  the  widow, 
Young  man,  1  say  unto  thee,  Arise;  and  he  should  revive, 
and  begin  to  speak,  and  thou  shouldest  deliver  him  to  his 
mother.    Her  heart  then  was  shaken  with  no  tumultuous  ex- 
ultation, when  she  heard  that  what  she  daily  with  tears  de- 
sired of  Thee,  was  already  in  so  great  part  realized ;  in  that, 
though  I  had  not  yet  attained  the  truth,  I  was  rescued  from 
falsehood ;  but,  as  being  assured,  that  Thou,  who  hadst  prom- 
ised the  whole,  wouldest  one  day  give  the  rest,  most  calmly, 
and  with  an  heart  full  of  confidence,  she  replied  to  me,  "She 
believed  in  Christ,   that  before  she  departed  this  life,  she 
should  see  me  a  Catholic  believer."    Thus  much  to  me.    But 
to  Thee,  Fountain  of  mercies,  poured  she  forth  more  copious 
prayers  and  tears,  that  Thou  wouldest  hasten  Thy  help,  and 
enlighten  my  darkness;  and  she  hastened  the  more  eagerly 
to  the  Church,  and  hung  upon  the  lips  of  Ambrose,  praying 


316  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

for  the  fountain  of  that  water,  which  springeth  up  unto  life 
everlasting.  But  that  man  she  loved  as  an  angel  of  God,  be- 
cause she  knew  that  by  him  I  had  been  brought  for  the  present 
to  that  doubtful  state  of  faith  I  now  was  in,  through  which 
she  anticipated  most  confidently,  that  I  should  pass  from  sick- 
ness unto  health,  after  the  access,  as  it  were,  of  a  sharper  fit, 
which  physicians  call ' '  the  crisis. ' ' 

When  then  my  mother  had  once,  as  she  was  wont  in  Africa, 
brought  to  the  Churches  built  in  memory  of  the  Saints,  cer- 
tain cakes,  and  bread  and  wine,  and  was  forbidden  by  the 
door-keeper;  so  soon  as  she  knew  that  the  Bishop  had  for- 
bidden this,  she  so  piously  and  obediently  embraced  his  wishes, 
that  I  myself  wondered  how  readily  she  censured  her  own 
practice,  rather  than  discuss  his  prohibition.  For  wine-bib- 
bing did  not  lay  siege  to  her  spirit,  nor  did  love  of  wine  pro- 
voke her  to  hatred  of  the  truth,  as  it  doth  too  many,  (both 
men  and  women,)  who  revolt  at  a  lesson  of  sobriety,  as  men 
well-drunk  at  a  draft  mingled  with  water.  But  she,  when 
she  had  brought  her  basket  with  the  accustomed  festival-food, 
to  be  but  tasted  by  herself,  and  then  given  away,  never  joined 
therewith  more  than  one  small  cup  of  wine,  diluted  according 
to  her  own  abstemious  habits,  which  for  courtesy  she  would 
taste.  And  if  there  were  many  Churches  of  the  departed 
saints,  that  were  to  be  honored  in  that  manner,  she  still  car- 
ried round  that  same  one  cup,  to  be  used  everywhere;  and 
this,  though  not  only  made  very  watery,  but  unpleasantly 
heated  with  carrying  about,  she  would  distribute  to  those 
about  her  by  small  sips;  for  she  sought  their  devotion,  not 
pleasure.  So  soon,  then,  as  she  found  this  custom  to  be  for- 
bidden by  that  famous  preacher,  and  most  pious  prelate,  even 
to  those  that  would  use  it  soberly,  lest  so  an  occasion  of  excess 
might  be  given  to  the  drunkard ;  and  for  that  these,  as  it  were, 
anniversary  funeral  solemnities  did  much  resemble  the  super- 
stition of  the  Gentiles,  she  most  willingly  forbare  it :  and  for 
a  basket  filled  with  fruits  of  the  earth,  she  had  learned  to 
bring  to  the  Churches  of  the  martyrs,  a  breast  filled  with  more 
purified  petitions,  and  to  give  what  she  could  to  the  poor; 
that  so  the  communication  of  the  Lord's  Body  might  be  there 
rightly  celebrated,  where,  after  the  example  of  His  Passion, 
the  martyrs  had  been  sacrificed  and  crowned.  But  yet  it 


SAINT  AUGUSTINE  317 

seems  to  me,  O  Lord  my  God,  and  thus  thinks  my  heart  of  it 
in  Thy  sight,  that  perhaps  she  would  not  so  readily  have 
yielded  to  the  cutting  off  of  this  custom,  had  it  been  forbidden 
by  another,  whom  she  loved  not  as  Ambrose,  whom,  for  my 
salvation,  she  loved  most  entirely;  and  he  her  again,  for  her 
most  religious  conversation,  whereby  in  good  works,  so  fervent 
in  spirit,  she  was  constant  at  church;  so  that,  when  he  saw 
me,  he  often  burst  forth  into  her  praises ;  congratulating  me, 
that  I  had  such  a  mother;  not  knowing  what  a  son  she  had 
in  me,  who  doubted  of  all  these  things,  and  imagined  the  way 
to  life  could  not  be  found  out. 

Nor  did  I  yet  groan  in  my  prayers,  that  Thou  wouldest 
help  me ;  but  my  spirit  was  wholly  intent  on  learning,  and 
restless  to  dispute.  And  Ambrose  himself,  as  the  world 
counts  happy,  I  esteemed  a  happy  man,  whom  personages  so 
great  held  in  such  honor;  only  his  celibacy  seemed  to  me  a 
painful  course.  But  what  hope  he  bore  within  him,  what 
struggles  he  had  against  the  temptations  which  beset  his  very 
excellencies,  or  what  comfort  in  adversities,  and  what  sweet 
joys  Thy  Bread  had  for  the  hidden  mouth  of  his  spirit,  when 
chewing  the  cud  thereof,  I  neither  could  conjecture,  nor  had 
experienced.  Nor  did  he  know  the  tides  of  my  feelings,  or 
the  abyss  of  my  danger.  For  I  could  not  ask  of  him,  what  I 
would  as  I  would,  being  shut  out  both  from  his  ear  and 
speech  by  multitudes  of  busy  people,  whose  weaknesses  he 
served.  With  whom  when  he  was  not  taken  up,  (which  was 
but  a  little  time,)  he  was  either  refreshing  his  body  with 
the  sustenance  absolutely  necessary,  or  his  mind  with  reading. 
But  when  he  was  reading,  his  eye  glided  over  the  pages,  and 
his  heart  searched  out  the  sense,  but  his  voice  and  tongue  were 
at  rest.  Oft-times  when  we  had  come,  (for  no  man  was  for- 
bidden to  enter,  nor  was  it  his  wont  that  any  who  came  should 
be  announced  to  him,)  we  saw  him  thus  reading  to  himself, 
and  never  otherwise;  and  having  long  sat  silent,  (for  who 
durst  intrude  on  one  so  intent?)  we  were  fain  to  depart, 
conjecturing,  that  in  the  small  interval,  which  he  obtained, 
free  from  the  din  of  others'  business,  for  the  recruiting  of 
his  mind,  he  was  loath  to  be  taken  off;  and  perchance  he 
dreaded  lest  if  the  author  he  read  should  deliver  anything 
obscurely,  some  attentive  or  perplexed  hearer  should  desire 


318  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

him  to  expound  it,  or  to  discuss  some  of  the  harder  questions ; 
so  that  his  time  being  thus  spent,  he  could  not  turn  over  so 
many  volumes  as  he  desired;  although  the  preserving  of  his 
voice  (which  a  very  little  speaking  would  weaken)  might  be 
the  truer  reason  for  his  reading  to  himself.  But  with  what 
intent  soever  he  did  it,  certainly  in  such  a  man  it  was  good. 

I  however  certainly  had  no  opportunity  of  inquiring  what 
I  wished,  of  that  so  holy  oracle  of  Thine,  his  breast,  unless 
the  thing  might  be  answered  briefly.  But  those  tides  in  me, 
to  be  poured  out  to  him,  required  his  full  leisure,  and  never 
found  it.  I  heard  him  indeed  every  Lord's  day,  rightly  ex- 
pounding the  Word  of  Truth  among  the  people;  and  I  was 
more  and  more  convinced,  that  all  the  knots  of  those  crafty 
calumnies,  which  those  our  deceivers  had  knit  against  the 
Divine  Books,  could  be  unraveled.  But  when  I  understood 
withal,  that  "man,  created  by  Thee,  after  Thine  own  image," 
was  not  so  understood  by  Thy  spiritual  sons,  whom  of  the 
Catholic  Mother  Thou  hast  born  again  through  grace,  as 
though  they  believed  and  conceived  of  Thee  as  bounded  by 
human  shape;  (although  what  a  spiritual  substance  should 
be  I  had  not  even  a  faint  or  shadowy  notion;)  yet,  with  joy 
I  blushed  at  having  so  many  years  barked  not  against  the 
Catholic  faith,  but  against  the  fictions  of  carnal  imaginations. 
For  so  rash  and  impious  had  I  been,  that  what  I  ought  by 
inquiring  to  have  learned,  I  had  pronounced  on,  condemning. 
For  Thou,  Most  High,  and  most  near;  most  secret,  and  most 
present ;  Who  hast  not  limbs  some  larger,  some  smaller,  but 
art  wholly  everywhere,  and  nowhere  in  space,  art  not  of  such 
corporeal  shape,  yet  hast  Thou  made  man  after  Thine  own 
image ;  and  behold,  from  head  to  foot  is  he  contained  in  space. 

Ignorant  then  how  this  Thy  imago  should  subsist,  I  should 
have  knocked  and  proposed  the  doubt,  how  it  was  to  be  be- 
lieved, not  insultingly  opposed  it,  as  if  believed.  Doubt,  then, 
what  to  hold  for  certain,  the  more  sharply  gnawed  my  heart, 
the  more  ashamed  I  was,  that  so  long  deluded  and  deceived 
by  the  promise  of  certainties,  I  had  with  childish  error  and 
vehemence,  prated  of  so  many  uncertainties.  For  that  they 
were  falsehoods,  became  clear  to  me  later.  However  I  was 
certain  that  they  were  uncertain,  and  that  I  had  formerly 
accounted  them  certain,  when  with  a  blind  contentiousness,  I 


SAINT  AUGUSTINE  319 

accused  Thy  Catholic  Church,  whom  I  now  discovered,  not 
indeed  as  yet  to  teach  truly,  but  at  least  not  to  teach  that, 
for  which  I  had  grievously  censured  her.  So  I  was  con- 
founded, and  converted:  and  I  joyed,  O  my  God,  that  the 
One  Only  Church,  the  body  of  Thine  Only  Son,  (wherein  the 
name  of  Christ  had  been  put  upon  me  as  an  infant,)  had  no 
taste  for  infantine  conceits;  nor  in  her  sound  doctrine,  main- 
tained any  tenet  which  should  confine  Thee,  the  Creator  of 
all,  in  space,  however  great  and  large,  yet  bounded  every- 
where by  the  limits  of  a  human  form. 

I  joyed  also,  that  the  old  Scriptures  of  the  Law  and  the 
Prophets,  were  laid  before  me,  not  now  to  be  perused  with 
that  eye  to  which  before  they  seemed  absurd,  when  I  reviled 
Thy  holy  ones  for  so  thinking,  whereas  indeed  they  thought 
not  so :  and  with  joy  I  heard  Ambrose  in  his  sermons  to  the 
people,  oftentimes  most  diligently  recommend  this  text  for 
a  rule,  The  letter  killeth,  but  the  Spirit  giveth  life;  whilst  he 
drew  aside  the  mystic  veil,  laying  open  spiritually  what  ac- 
cording to  the  letter,  seemed  to  teach  something  unsound ; 
teaching  herein  nothing  that  offended  me,  though  he  taught 
what  I  knew  not  as  yet,  whether  it  were  true.  For  I  kept  my 
heart  from  assenting  to  anything,  fearing  to  fall  headlong; 
but  by  hanging  in  suspense  I  was  the  worse  killed.  For  I 
wished  to  be  as  assured  of  the  things  I  saw  not,  as  I  was  that 
seven  and  three  are  ten.  For  I  was  not  so  mad,  as  to  think 
that  even  this  could  not  be  comprehended;  but  I  desired  to 
have  other  things  as  clear  as  this,  whether  things  corporeal, 
which  were  not  present  to  my  senses,  or  spiritual,  whereof  I 
knew  not  how  to  conceive,  except  corporeally.  And  by  be- 
lieving might  I  have  been  cured,  that  so  the  eyesight  of  my 
soul  being  cleared,  might  in  some  way  be  directed  to  Thy 
truth,  which  abideth  always,  and  in  no  part  faileth.  But  as 
it  happens  that  one,  who  has  tried  a  bad  physician,  fears  to 
trust  himself  with  a  good  one,  so  was  it  with  the  health  of 
my  soul,  which  could  not  be  healed  but  by  believing,  and  lest 
it  should  believe  falsehoods,  refused  to  be  cured;  resisting 
Thy  hands,  who  hast  prepared  the  medicines  of  faith,  and 
hast  applied  them  to  the  diseases  of  the  whole  world,  and 
given  unto  them  so  great  authority. 

Boing  led,  however,  from  this  to  prefer  the  Catholic  doc- 


320  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

trine,  I  felt  that  her  proceeding  was  more  unassuming  and 
honest,  in  that  she  required  to  be  believed  things  not  demon- 
strated, (whether  it  was  that  they  could  in  themselves  be 
demonstrated  but  not  to  certain  persons,  or  could  not  at  all 
be.)  whereas  among  the  Manic-hees  our  credulity  was  mocked 
by  a  promise  of  certain  knowledge,  and  then  so  many  most 
fabulous  and  absurd  things  were  imposed  to  be  believed, 
because  they  could  not  be  demonstrated.  Then  Thou,  O  Lord, 
little  by  little  with  most  tender  and  most  merciful  hand, 
touching  and  composing  my  heart,  didst  persuade  me — con- 
sidering what  innumerable  things  I  believed,  which  I  saw  not, 
nor  was  present  while  they  were  done,  as  so' many  things  in 
secular  history,  so  many  reports  of  places  and  of  cities,  which 
I  had  not  seen ;  so  many  of  friends,  so  many  of  physicians,  so 
many  continually  of  other  men,  which  unless  we  should  be- 
lieve, we  should  do  nothing  at  all  in  this  life;  lastly,  with 
how  unshaken  an  assurance  I  believed,  of  what  parents  I 
was  born,  which  I  could  not  know,  had  I  not  believed  upon 
hearsay — considering  all  this,  Thou  didst  persuade  me,  that 
not  they  who  believed  Thy  Books,  (which  Thou  hast  estab- 
lished in  so  great  authority  among  almost  all  nations,)  but 
they  who  believed  them  not,  were  to  be  blamed ;  and  that  they 
were  not  to  be  heard,  who  should  say  to  me,  "How  knowest 
thou  those  Scriptures  to  have  been  imparted  unto  mankind 
by  the  Spirit  of  the  one  true  and  most  true  God?"  For  this 
very  thing  was  of  all  most  to  be  believed,  since  no  contentious- 
ness of  blasphemous  questionings,  of  all  that  multitude  which 
I  had  read  in  the  self-contradicting  philosophers,  could  wring 
this  belief  from  me,  "That  Thou  art"  whatsoever  Thou  wert, 
(what  I  knew  not,)  and  "That  the  government  of  human 
things  belongs  to  Thee." 

This  I  believed,  sometimes  more  strongly,  more  weakly 
other- whiles;  yet  I  ever  believed  both  that  Thou  wert,  and 
hadst  a  care  of  us ;  though  I  was  ignorant,  both  what  was  to 
be  thought  of  Thy  substance,  and  what  way  led  or  led  back 
to  Thee.  Since  then  we  were  too  weak  by  abstract  reasonings 
to  find  out  truth  :  and  for  this  very  cause  needed  the  authority 
of  Holy  Writ ;  I  had  now  begun  to  believe,  that  Thou  wouldest 
never  have  given  such  excellency  of  authority  to  that  Writ  in 
all  lands,  hadst  Thou  not  willed  thereby  to  be  believed  in, 


SAINT  AUGUSTINE  321 

thereby  sought.  For  now  what  things,  sounding  strangely  in 
the  Scripture,  were  wont  to  offend  me,  having  heard  divers 
of  them  expounded  satisfactorily,  I  referred  to  the  depth  of 
the  mysteries,  and  its  authority  appeared  to  me  the  more 
venerable,  and  more  worthy  of  religious  credence,  in  that, 
while  it  lay  open  to  all  to  read,  it  reserved  the  majesty  of  its 
mysteries  within  its  profounder  meaning,  stooping  to  all  in 
the  great  plainness  of  its  words  and  lowliness  of  its  style,  yet 
calling  forth  the  intensest  application'of  such  as  are  not  light 
of  heart;  that  so  it  might  receive  all  in  its  open  bosom,  and 
through  narrow  passages  waft  over  towards  Thee  some  few, 
yet  many  more  than  if  it  stood  not  aloft  on  such  a  height  of 
authority,  nor  drew  multitudes  within  its  bosom  by  its  holy 
lowliness.  These  things  I  thought  on,  and  Thou  wert  with 
me ;  I  sighed,  and  Thou  heardest  me ;  I  wavered,  and  Thou 
didst  guide  me ;  I  wandered  through  the  broad  way  of  the 
world,  and  Thou  didst  not  forsake  me. 

I  panted  after  honors,  gains,  marriage ;  and  Thou  deridedst 
me.  In  these  desires  I  underwent  most  bitter  crosses,  Thou 
being  the  more  gracious,  the  less  Thou  sufferedst  aught  to 
grow  sweet  to  me,  which  was  not  Thou.  Behold  my  heart,  O 
Lord,  who  wouldest  I  should  remember  all  this,  and  confess 
to  Thee.  Let  my  soul  cleave  unto  Thee,  now  that  Thou  hast 
freed  it  from  that  fast-holding  birdlime  of  death.  How 
wretched  was  it!  and  Thou  didst  irritate  the  feeling  of  its 
wound,  that  forsaking  all  else,  it  might  be  converted  unto 
Thee,  who  art  above  all,  and  without  whom  all  things  would 
be  nothing;  be  converted,  and  be  healed.  *  How  miserable  was 
I  then,  and  how  didst  Thou  deal  with  me,  to  make  me  feel 
my  misery  on  that  day,  when  I  was  preparing  to  recite  a 
panegyric  of  the  Emperor,1  wherein  I  was  to  utter  many  a  lie, 
and  lying,  was  to  be  applauded  by  those  who  knew  I  lied,  and 
my  heart  was  panting  with  these  anxieties,  and  boiling  with 
the  feverishness  of  consuming  thoughts.  For,  passing  through 
one  of  the  streets  of  Milan,  I  observed  a  poor  beggar,  then,  I 
suppose,  with  a  full  belly,  joking  and  joyous:  and  I  sighed, 
and  spoke  to  the  friends  around  me,  of  the  many  sorrows  of 
our  frenzies;  for  that  by  all  such  efforts  of  ours,  as  those 

1  Perhaps  Valentinian  the  younger,  whose  court,  according  to  Possidius, 
was  at  Milan,  when  Aug.  was  Professor  of  Khetoric  there. 
A.  v.  1—21 


822  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

wherein  I  then  toiled,  dragging  along,  under  the  goading  of 
desire,  the  burthen  of  my  own  wretchedness,  and,  by  drag- 
ging, augmenting  it,  we  yet  looked  to  arrive  only  at  that  very 
joyousness,  whither  that  beggar-man  had  arrived  before  us, 
who  should  never  perchance  attain  it.  For  what  he  had  ob- 
tained by  means  of  a  few  begged  pence,  the  same  was  I  plot- 
ting for  by  many  a  toilsome  turning  and  winding;  the  joy  of 
a  temporary  felicity.  For  he  verily  had  not  the  true  joy;  but 
yet  I  with  those  my  ambitious  designs  was  seeking  one  much 
less  true.  And  certainly  he  was  joyous,  I  anxious;  he  void 
of  care,  I  full  of  fears.  But  should  any  ask  me,  had  I  rather 
be  merry  or  fearful  ?  I  would  answer,  merry.  Again,  if  he 
asked  had  I  rather  be  such  as  he  was,  or  what  I  then  was  ?  I 
should  choose  to  be  myself,  though  worn  with  cares  and  fears ; 
but  out  of  wrong  judgment ;  for,  was  it  the  truth  ?  For  I 
ought  not  to  prefer  myself  to  him,  because  more  learned  than 
he,  seeing  I  had  no  joy  therein,  but  sought  to  please  men 
by  it ;  and  that  not  to  instruct,  but  simply  to  please.  Where- 
fore also  Thou  didst  break  my  bones  with  the  staff  of  thy 
correction. 

Away  with  those  then  from  my  soul,  who  say  to  her,  "It 
makes  a  difference,  whence  a  man's  joy  is.  That  beggar-man 
joyed  in  drunkenness ;  Thou  desiredst  to  joy  in  glory. ' '  What 
glory,  Lord?  That  which  is  not  in  Thee.  For  even  as  his 
was  no  true  joy,  so  was  that  no  true  glory :  and  it  overthrew 
my  soul  more.  He  that  very  night  should  digest  his  drunken- 
ness; but  I  had  slept  and  risen  again  with  mine,  and  was  to 
sleep  again,  and  again  to  rise  with  it,  how  many  days,  Thou, 
God,  knowest.  But  "it  doth  make  a  difference  whence  a 
man's  joy  is."  I  know  it,  and  the  joy  of  a  faithful  hope 
lieth  incomparably  beyond  such  vanity.  Yea,  and  so  was  he 
then  beyond  me :  for  he  verily  was  the  happier ;  not  only  for 
that  he  was  thoroughly  drenched  in  mirth,  I  disemboweled 
with  cares:  but  he,  by  fair  wishes,  had  gotten  wine;  I,  by 
lying  was  seeking  for  empty,  swelling  praise.  Much  to  this 
purpose  said  I  then  to  my  friends :  and  I  often  marked  in 
them  how  it  fared  with  me ;  and  I  found  it  went  ill  with  me, 
and  grieved,  and  doubled  that  very  ill ;  and  if  any  prosperity 
smiled  on  me,  I  was  loath  to  catch  at  it,  for  almost  before  I 
could  grasp  it,  it  flew  away. 


SAINT  AUGUSTINE  323 

These  things  we,  who  were  living  as  friends  together,  be- 
moaned together,  but  chiefly  and  most  familiarly  did  I  speak 
thereof  with  Alypius  and  Nebridius,  of  whom  Alypius  was 
born  in  the  same  town  with  me,  of  persons  of  chief  rank 
there,  but  younger  than  I.  For  he  had  studied  under  me, 
both  when  I  first  lectured  in  our  town,  and  afterwards  at 
Carthage,  and  he  loved  me  much,  because  I  seemed  to  him 
kind,  and  learned;  and  I  him,  for  his  great  towardliness  to 
virtue,  which  was  eminent  enough  in  one  of  no  greater  years. 
Yet  the  whirlpool  of  Carthaginian  habits  (amongst  whom 
those  idle  spectacles  are  hotly  followed)  had  drawn  him  into 
the  madness  of  the  Circus.  But  while  he  was  miserably  tossed 
therein,  and  I,  professing  rhetoric  there,  had  a  public  school, 
as  yet  he  used  not  my  teaching,  by  reason  of  some  unkindness 
risen  betwixt  his  father  and  me.  I  had  found  then  how 
deadly  he  doted  upon  the  Circus,  and  was  deeply  grieved  that 
he  seemed  likely,  nay,  or  had  thrown  away  so  great  promise : 
yet  had  I  no  means  of  advising  or  with  a  sort  of  constraint 
reclaiming  him,  either  by  the  kindness  of  a  friend,  or  the 
authority  of  a  master.  For  I  supposed  that  he  thought  of  me 
as  did  his  father ;  but  he  was  not  such ;  laying  aside  then  his 
father 's  mind  in  that  matter,  he  began  to  greet  me,  come  some- 
times into  my  lecture-room,  hear  a  little,  and  be  gone. 

I  however  had  forgotten  to  deal  with  him,  that  he  should 
not,  through  a  blind  and  headlong  desire  of  vain  pastimes, 
undo  so  good  a  wit.  But  Thou,  O  Lord,  who  guidest  the 
course  of  all  Thou  hast  created,  hadst  not  forgotten  him,  who 
was  one  day  to  be  among  Thy  children,  Priest  and  Dispenser 
of  Thy  Sacrament;  and  that  his  amendment  might  plainly 
be  attributed  to  Thyself,  Thou  effectedst  it  through  me,  but 
unknowingly.  For  as  one  day  I  sat  in  my  accustomed  place, 
with  my  scholars  before  me,  he  entered,  greeted  me,  sat  down, 
and  applied  his  mind  to  what  I  then  handled.  I  had  by 
chance  a  passage  in  hand,  which  while  I  was  explaining,  a 
likeness  from  the  Circensian  races  occurred  to  me,  as  likely 
to  make  what  I  would  convey  pleasanter  and  plainer,  sea- 
soned with  biting  mockery  of  those  whom  that  madness  had 
enthralled ;  God,  Thou  knowest,  that  I  then  thought  not  of 
curing  Alypius  of  that  infection.  But,  he  took  it  wholly  to 
himself,  and  thought  that  I  said  it  simply  for  his  sake.  And 


324  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

whence  another  would  have  taken  occasion  of  offense  with  me, 
that  right-minded  youth  took  as  a  ground  of  being  offended 
at  himself,  and  loving  me  more  fervently.  For  Thou  hadst 
said  it  long  ago,  and  put  it  into  Thy  book,  Rebuke  a  wise  man 
and  he  will  love  thee.  But  I  had  not  rebuked  him,  but  Thou, 
who  employest  all,  knowing  or  not  knowing,  in  that  order 
which  Thyself  knowest,  (and  that  order  is  just,)  didst  of  my 
heart  and  tongue  make  burning  coals,  by  which  to  set  on  fire 
the  hopeful  mind,  thus  languishing,  and  so  cure  it.  Let  him 
be  silent  in  Thy  praises,  who  considers  not  Thy  mercies, 
which  confess  unto  Thee  out  of  my  inmost  soul.  For  he  upon 
that  speech,  burst  out  of  that  pit  so  deep,  wherein  he  was 
willfully  plunged,  and  was  blinded  with  its  wretched  pastimes ; 
and  he  shook  his  mind  with  a  strong  self-command;  where- 
upon all  the  filths  of  the  Circensian  pastimes  flew  off  from 
him,  nor  came  he  again  thither.  Upon  this,  he  prevailed  with 
his  unwilling  father,  that  he  might  be  my  scholar.  He  gave 
way,  and  gave  in.  And  Alypius  beginning  to  be  my  hearer 
again,  was  involved  in  the  same  superstition  with  me,  loving 
in  the  Manichees  that  shew  of  continency,  which  he  supposed 
true  and  unfeigned.  Whereas  it  was  a  senseless  and  seducing 
continency,  ensnaring  precious  souls,  unable  as  yet  to  reach 
the  depth  of  virtue,  yet  readily  beguiled  with  the  surface  of 
what  was  but  a  shadowy  and  counterfeit  virtue. 

Him  then  I  had  found  at  Rome,  and  he  clave  to  me  by  a 
most  strong  tie,  and  went  with  me  to  Milan,  both  that  he 
might  not  leave  me,  and  might  practice  something  of  the  law 
he  had  studied,  more  to  please  his  parents,  than  himself. 
There  he  had  thrice  sat  as  Assessor  with  an  uncorruptness, 
much  wondered  at  by  others,  he  wondering  at  others  rather, 
who  could  prefer  gold  to  honesty.  His  character  was  tried 
besides,  not  only  with  the  bait  of  covetousness,  but  with  the 
goad  of  fear.  At  Rome  he  was  Assessor  to  the  Count  of  the 
Italian  Treasury.  There  was  at  that  time  a  very  powerful 
senator,  to  whose  favors  many  stood  indebted,  many  much 
feared.  He  would  needs,  by  his  usual  power,  have  a  thing 
allowed  him,  which  by  the  laws  was  unallowed.  Alypius  re- 
sisted it :  a  bribe  was  promised ;  with  all  his  heart  he  scorned 
it:  threats  were  held  out;  he  trampled  upon  them:  all  won- 
dering at  so  unwonted  a  spirit,  which  neither  desired  the 


SAINT  AUGUSTINE  325 

friendship,  nor  feared  the  enmity  of  one  so  great  and  so 
mightily  renowned  for  innumerable  means  of  doing  good  or 
evil.  And  the  very  Judge,  whose  councilor  Alypius  was, 
although  also  unwilling  it  should  be,  yet  did  not  openly 
refuse,  but  put  the  matter  off  upon  Alypius,  alleging  that  he 
would  not  allow  him  to  do  it:  for  in  truth  had  the  Judge 
done  it,  Alypius  would  have  decided  otherwise.  With  this 
one  thing  in  the  way  of  learning  was  he  well-nigh  seduced, 
that  he  might  have  books  copied  for  him  at  Praetorian  prices, 
but  consulting  justice,  he  altered  his  deliberation  for  the 
better ;  esteeming  equity  whereby  he  was  hindered  more  gain- 
ful than  the  power  whereby  he  were  allowed.  These  are 
slight  things,  but  he  that  is  faithful  in  little,  is  faithful  also 
in  much.  Nor  can  that  anyhow  be  void,  which  proceeded  out 
of  the  mouth  of  Thy  truth ;  //  ye  have  not  been  faithful  in 
the  unrighteous  Mammon,  who  will  commit  to  your  trust  true 
riches  f  And  if  ye  have  not  been  faithful  in  that  which,  is 
another  man's,  who  shall  give  you  that  which  is  'your  own? 
He,  being  such,  did  at  that  time  cleave  to  me,  and  with  me 
wavered  in  purpose,  what  course  of  life  was  to  be  taken. 

Nebridius  also,  who  having  left  his  native  country  near 
Carthage,  yea  and  Carthage  itself,  where  he  had  much  lived, 
leaving  his  excellent  family-estate  and  house,  and  a  mother 
behind,  who  was  not  to  follow  him,  had  come  to  Milan,  for  no 
other  reason,  but  that  with  me  he  might  live  in  a  most  ardent 
search  after  truth  and  wisdom.  Like  me  he  sighed,  like  me  he 
wavered,  an  ardent  searcher  after  true  life,  and  a  most  acute 
examiner  of  the  most  difficult  questions.  Thus  were  there 
the  mouths  of  three  indigent  persons,  sighing  out  their  wants 
one  to  another,  and  waiting  upon  Thee  that  Thou  mightest 
give  them  their  meat  in  due  season.  And  in  all  the  bitterness, 
which  by  Thy  mercy  followed  our  worldly  affairs,  as  we  looked 
towards  the  end,  why  we  should  suffer  all  this,  darkness  met 
us ;  and  we  turned  away  groaning,  and  saying,  How  long  shall 
these  things  be?  This  too  we  often  said;  and  so  saying  for- 
sook them  not,  for  as  yet  there  dawned  nothing  certain,  which, 
these  forsaken,  we  might  embrace. 

And  I,  viewing  and  reviewing  things,  most  wondered  at 
the  length  of  time  from  that  my  nineteenth  year,  wherein  I 
had  begun  to  kindle  with  the  desire  of  wisdom,  settling  when 


326  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

I  had  found  her,  to  abandon  all  the  empty  hopes  and  lying 
frenzies  of  vain  desires.  And  lo,  I  was  now  in  my  thirtieth 
year,  sticking  in  the  same  mire,  greedy  of  enjoying  things 
present,  which  passed  away  and  wasted  my  soul ;  while  I  said 
to  myself.  ' '  To-morrow  I  shall  find  it ;  it  will  appear  mani- 
festly, and  I  shall  grasp  it;  lo,  Faustus  the  Manichee  will 
come,  and  clear  everything!  O  you  great  men,  ye  Academi- 
cians, it  is  true  then,  that  no  certainty  can  be  attained  for 
the  ordering  of  life !  Nay,  let  us  search  the  more  diligently, 
and  despair  not.  Lo,  things  in  the  ecclesiastical  books  are 
not  absurd  to  us  now,  which  sometimes  seemed  absurd,  and 
may  be  otherwise  taken,  and  in  a  good  sense.  I  will  take  my 
stand,  where,  as  a  child,  my  parents  placed  me,  until  the 
clear  truth  be  found  out.  But  where  shall  it  be  sought  or 
when?  Ambrose  has  no  leisure;  we  have  no  leisure  to  read; 
where  shall  we  find  even  the  books?  Whence,  or  when  pro- 
cure them?  from  whom  borrow  them?  Let  set  times  be  ap- 
pointed, and  certain  hours  be  ordered  for  the  health  of  our 
soul.  Great  hope  has  dawned ;  the  Catholic  Faith  teaches  not 
what  we  thought,  and  vainly  accused  it  of;  her  instructed 
members  hold  it  profane,  to  believe  God  to  be  bounded  by  the 
figure  of  a  human  body:  and  do  we  doubt  to  'knock,'  that  the 
rest  'may  be  opened?'  The  forenoons  our  scholars  take  up; 
what  do  we  during  the  rest?  Why  not  this?  But  when  then 
pay  we  court  to  our  great  friends,  whose  favor  we  need  ? 
When  compose  what  we  may  sell  to  scholars?  When  refresh 
ourselves,  unbending  our  minds  from  this  intenseness  of 
care?" 

"Perish  everything,  dismiss  we  these  empty  vanities,  and 
betake  ourselves  to  the  one  search  for  truth !  Life  is  vain, 
death  uncertain ;  if  it  steals  upon  us  on  a  sudden,  in  what 
state  shall  we  depart  hence?  and  where  shall  we  learn  what 
here  we  have  neglected  ?  and  shall  we  not  rather  suffer  the 
punishment  of  this  negligence?  What,  if  death  itself  cut  off 
and  end  all  care  and  feeling?  Then  must  this  be  ascertained. 
But  God  forbid  this!  It  is  no  vain  and  empty  thing,  that 
the  excellent  dignity  of  the  authority  of  the  Christian  Faith 
hath  overspread  the  whole  world.  Never  would  such  and  so 
great  things  be  by  God  wrought  for  us,  if  with  the  death  of 
the  body,  the  life  of  the  soul  came  to  an  end.  Wherefore  de- 


SAINT  AUGUSTINE  327 

lay  then  to  abandon  worldly  hopes,  and  give  ourselves  wholly 
to  seek  after  God  and  the  blessed  life?  But  wait!  Even 
those  things  are  pleasant ;  they  have  some,  and  no  small  sweet- 
ness. We  must  not  lightly  abandon  them,  for  it  were  a  shame 
to  return  again  to  them.  See,  it  is  no  great  matter  now  to 
obtain  some  station,  and  then  what  should  we  more  wish  for? 
"We  have  store  of  powerful  friends;  if  nothing  else  offer,  and 
we  be  in  much  haste,  at  least  a  presidentship  may  be  given 
us:  and  a  wife  with  some  money,  that  she  increase  not  our 
charges:  and  this  shall  be  the  bound  of  desire.  Many  great 
men,  and  most  worthy  of  imitation,  have  given  themselves  to 
the  study  of  wisdom  in  the  state  of  marriage." 

While  I  went  over  these  things,  and  these  winds  shifted  and 
drove  my  heart  this  way  and  that,  time  passed  on,  but  I 
delayed  to  turn  to  the  Lord ;  and  from  day  to  day  deferred 
to  live  in  Thee,  and  deferred  not  daily  to  die  in  myself. 
Loving  a  happy  life,  I  feared  it  in  its  own  abode,  and  sought 
it,  by  fleeing  from  it.  I  thought  I  should  be  too  miserable, 
unless  folded  in  female  arms ;  and  of  the  medicine  of  Thy 
mercy  to  cure  that  infirmity  I  thought  not,  not  having  tried 
it.  As  for  continency,  I  supposed  it  to  be  in  our  own  power, 
(though  in  myself  I  did  not  find  that  power)  being  so  foolish 
as  not  to  know  what  is  written,  None  can  be  continent  unless 
Thou  give  it;  and  that  Thou  wouldest  give  it,  if  with  inward 
groanings  I  did  knock  at  Thine  ears,  and  with  a  settled  faith 
did  cast  my  care  on  Thee. 

Alypius  indeed  kept  me  from  marrying;  alleging,  that  so 
could  we  by  no  means  with  undistracted  leisure  live  together 
in  the  love  of  wisdom,  as  we  had  long  desired.  For  himself 
\vas  even  then  most  pure  in  this  point,  so  that  it  was  wonder- 
ful ;  and  that  the  more,  since  in  the  outset  of  his  youth  he 
had  entered  into  that  course,  but  had  not  stuck  fast  therein ; 
rather  had  he  felt  remorse  and  revolting  at  it,  living  thence- 
forth until  now  most  continently.  But  I  opposed  him  with 
the  examples  of  those,  who  as  married  men  had  cherished 
wisdom,  and  served  God  acceptably,  and  retained  their 
friends,  and  loved  them  faithfully.  Of  whose  greatness  of 
spirit  I  was  far  short ;  and  bound  with  the  disease  of  the  flesh, 
and  its  deadly  sweetness,  drew  along  my  chain,  dreading  to  be 
loosed,  and  as  if  rny  wound  had  been  fretted,  put  back  his 


328  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

good  persuasions,  as  it  were  the  hand  of  one  that  would  un- 
chain me.  Moreover,  by  me  did  the  serpent  speak  unto 
Alypius  himself,  by  my  tongue  weaving  and  laying  in  his 
path  pleasurable  snares,  wherein  his  virtuous  and  free  feet 
might  be  entangled. 

For  when  he  wondered  that  I,  whom  he  esteemed  not 
slightly,  should  stick  so  fast  in  the  birdlime  of  that  pleasure, 
as  to  protest  (so  oft  as  we  discussed  it)  that  I  could  never 
lead  a  single  life ;  and  urged  in  my  defense  when  I  saw  him 
wonder,  that  there  was  great  difference  between  his  momen- 
tary and  scarce-remembered  knowledge  of  that  life,  which 
so  he  might  easily  despise,  and  my  continued  acquaintance 
whereto  if  but  the  honorable  name  of  marriage  were  added, 
he  ought  not  to  wonder  why  I  could  not  contemn  that  course ; 
he  began  also  to  desire  to  be  married ;  not  as  overcome  with 
desire  of  such  pleasure,  but  out  of  curiosity.  For  he  would 
fain  know,  he  said,  what  that  should  be,  without  which  my 
life,  to  him  so  pleasing,  would  to  me  seem  not  life  but  a  pun- 
ishment. For  his  mind,  free  from  that  chain,  was  amazed  at 
my  thraldom ;  and  through  that  amazement  was  going  on  to  a 
desire  of  trying  it,  thence  to  the  trial  itself,  and  thence  per- 
haps to  sink  into  that  bondage  whereat  he  wondered,  seeing 
he  was  willing  to  make  a  covenant  with  death;  and,  he  that 
loves  danger,  shall  fall  into  it.  For  whatever  honor  there  be 
in  the  office  of  well-ordering  a  married  life,  and  a  family, 
moved  us  but  slightly.  But  me  for  the  most  part  the  habit  of 
satisfying  an  insatiable  appetite  tormented,  while  it  held  me 
captive;  him,  an  admiring  wonder  was  leading  captive.  So 
were  we,  until  Thou,  O  Most  High,  not  forsaking  our  dust, 
commiserating  us  miserable,  didst  come  to  our  help,  by  won- 
drous and  secret  ways. 

Continual  effort  was  made  to  have  me  married.  I  wooed, 
I  was  promised,  chiefly  through  my  mother's  pains,  that  so 
once  married,  the  health-giving  baptism  might  cleanse  me, 
towards  which  she  rejoiced  that  I  was  being  daily  fitted,  and 
observed  that  her  prayers,  and  Thy  promises,  were  being 
fulfilled  in  my  faith.  At  which  time  verily,  both  at  my  re- 
quest and  her  own  longing,  with  strong  cries  of  heart  she 
daily  begged  of  Thee,  that  Thou  wouldest  by  a  vision  discover 
unto  her  something  concerning  my  future  marriage;  Thou 


SAINT  AUGUSTINE  329 

never  wouldest.  She  saw  indeed  certain  vain  and  fantastic 
things,  such  as  the  energy  of  the  human  spirit,  busied  thereon, 
brought  together ;  and  these  she  told  me  of,  not  with  that  con- 
fidence she  was  wont,  when  Thou  shewedst  her  anything,  but 
slighting  them.  For  she  could,  she  said,  through  a  certain 
feeling,  which  in  words  she  could  not  express,  discern  betwixt 
Thy  revelations,  and  the  dreams  of  her  own  soul.  Yet  the 
matter  was  pressed  on,  and  a  maiden  asked  in  marriage,  two 
years  under  the  fit  age ;  and,  as  pleasing,  was  waited  for. 

And  many  of  us  friends  conferring  about,  and  detesting 
the  turbulent  turmoils  of  human  life,  had  debated  and  now 
almost  resolved  on  living  apart  from  business  and  the  bustle 
of  men ;  and  this  was  to  be  thus  obtained ;  we  were  to  bring 
whatever  we  might  severally  procure,  and  make  one  household 
of  all;  so  that  through  the  truth  of  our  friendship  nothing 
should  belong  especially  to  any;  but  the  whole  thus  derived 
from  all,  should  as  a  whole  belong  to  each,  and  all  to  all. 
We  thought  there  might  be  some  ten  persons  in  this  society ; 
some  of  whom  were  very  rich,  especially  Romanianus  our 
townsman,  from  childhood  a  very  familiar  friend  of  mine, 
whom  the  grievous  perplexities  of  his  affairs  had  brought  up 
to  court;  who  was  the  most  earnest  for  this  project;  and 
therein  was  his  voice  of  great  weight,  because  his  ample  estate 
far  exceeded  any  of  the  rest.  We  had  settled  also,  that  two 
annual  officers,  as  it  were,  should  provide  all  things  necessary, 
the  rest  being  undisturbed.  But  when  we  began  to  consider 
whether  the  wives,  which  some  of  us  already  had,  others 
hoped  to  have,  would  allow  this,  all  that  plan,  which  was 
being  so  well  molded,  fell  to  pieces  in  our  hands,  was  utterly 
dashed  and  cast  aside.  Thence  we  betook  us  to  sighs,  and 
groans,  and  our  steps  to  follow  the  broad  and  beaten  ways  of 
the  world;  for  many  thoughts  were  in  our  heart,  but  Thy 
counsel  standeth  forever.  Out  of  which  counsel  Thou  didst 
deride  ours,  and  preparedst  Thine  own ;  purposing  to  give  us 
meat  in  due  season,  and  to  open  Thy  hand,  and  to  fill  our  souls 
with  blessing. 

Meanwhile  my  sins  were  being  multiplied,  and  my  concu- 
bine being  torn  from  my  side  as  a  hindrance  to  my  marriage, 
my  heart  which  clave  unto  her  was  torn  and  wounded  and 
bleeding.  And  she  returned  to  Africa,  vowing  unto  Thee 


330  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

never  to  know  any  other  man,  leaving  with  me  my  son  by  her. 
But  unhappy  I,  who  could  not  imitate  a  very  woman,  impa- 
tient of  delay,  inasmuch  as  not  till  after  two  years  was  I  to 
obtain  her  I  sought,  not  being  so  much  a  lover  of  marriage,  as 
a  slave  to  lust,  procured  another,  though  no  wife,  that  so  by 
the  servitude  of  an  enduring  custom,  the  disease  of  my  soul 
might  be  kept  up  and  carried  on  in  its  vigor  or  even  aug- 
mented, into  the  dominion  of  marriage.  Nor  was  that  my 
wound  cured,  which  had  been  made  by  the  cutting  away  of 
the  former,  but  after  inflammation  and  most  acute  pain,  it 
mortified,  and  my  pains  became  less  acute,  but  more  desperate. 

To  Thee  be  praise,  glory  to  Thee,  Fountain  of  mercies.  I 
was  becoming  more  miserable,  and  Thou  nearer.  Thy  right 
hand  was  continually  ready  to  pluck  me  out  of  the  mire,  and 
to  wash  me  thoroughly,  and  I  knew  it  not;  nor  did  anything 
call  me  back  from  a  yet  deeper  gulf  of  carnal  pleasures,  but 
the  fear  of  death,  and  of  Thy  judgment  to  come ;  which  amid 
all  my  changes,  never  departed  from  my  breast.  And  in  my 
disputes  with  my  friends  Alypius  and  Nebridius,  of  the  nature 
of  good  and  evil,  I  held  that  Epicurus  had  in  my  mind  won 
the  palm,  had  I  not  believed,  that  after  death  there  remained 
a  life  for  the  soul,  and  places  of  requital  according  to  men's 
deserts,  which  Epicurus  would  not  believe.  And  I  asked, 
"were  we  immortal,  and  to  live  in  perpetual  bodily  pleasure, 
without  fear  of  losing  it,  why  should  we  not  be  happy,  or 
what  else  should  we  seek?"  not  knowing  that  great  misery 
was  involved  in  this  very  thing,  that,  being  thus  sunk  and 
blinded.  I  could  not  discern  that  light  of  excellence  and 
beauty,  to  be  embraced  for  its  own  sake,  which  the  eye  of 
flesh  cannot  see,  and  is  seen  by  the  inner  man.  Nor  did  I, 
unhappy,  consider  from  what  source  it  sprung,  that  even  on 
these  things,  foul  as  they  were,  I  with  pleasure  discoursed 
with  my  friends,  nor  could  I,  even  according  to  the  notions 
I  then  had  of  happiness,  be  happy  without  friends,  amid 
what  abundance  soever  of  carnal  pleasures.  And  yet  these 
friends  I  loved  for  themselves  only,  and  I  felt  that  I  was 
beloved  of  them  again  for  myself  only. 

O  crooked  paths !  Woe  to  the  audacious  soul,  which  hoped, 
by  forsaking  Thee,  to  gain  some  better  thing!  Turned  it 
hath,  and  turned  again,  upon  back,  sides,  and  belly,  yet  all 


SAINT  AUGUSTINE  331 

was  painful,  and  Thou  alone  rest.  And  behold,  Thou  art  at 
hand,  and  deliverest  us  from  our  wretched  wanderings,  and 
placest  us  in  Thy  way,  and  dost  comfort  us,  and  say,  "Run; 
I  will  carry  you ;  yea  I  will  bring  you  through ;  there  also  will 
I  carry  you. ' ' 

BOOK   VII 

DECEASED  was  now  that  my  evil  and  abominable  youth,  and  I 
was  passing  into  early  manhood ;  the  more  defiled  by  vain 
things  as  I  grew  in  years,  who  could  not  imagine  any  sub- 
stance, but  such  as  is  wont  to  be  seen  with  these  eyes.  I 
thought  not  of  Thee,  O  God,  under  the  figure  of  an  human 
body ;  since  I  began  to  hear  aught  of  wisdom,  I  always  avoided 
this ;  and  rejoiced  to  have  found  the  same  in  the  faith  of  our 
spiritual  mother,  Thy  Catholic  Church.  But  what  else  to 
conceive  Thee  I  knew  not.  And  I,  a  man,  and  such  a  man, 
sought  to  conceive  of  Thee  the  sovereign,  only,  true  God ;  and 
I  did  in  my  inmost  soul  believe  that  Thou  wert  incorruptible, 
and  uninjurable,  and  unchangeable ;  because  though  not  know- 
ing whence  or  how,  yet  I  saw  plainly  and  was  sure,  that  that 
which  may  be  corrupted,  must  be  inferior  to  that  which  can- 
not; what  could  not  be  injured  I  preferred  unhesitatingly 
to  what  could  receive  injury;  the  unchangeable  to  things 
subject  to  change.  My  heart  passionately  cried  out  against  all 
my  phantoms,  and  with  this  one  blow  I  sought  to  beat  away 
from  the  eye  of  my  mind  all  that  unclean  troop  which  buzzed 
around  it.  And  lo,  being  scarce  put  off,  in  the  twinkling  of 
an  eye  they  gathered  again  thick  about  me,  flew  against  my 
face,  and  beclouded  it ;  so  that  though  not  under  the  form  of 
the  human  body,  yet  was  I  constrained  to  conceive  of  Thee 
(that  incorruptible,  uninjurable,  and  unchangeable,  which  I 
preferred  before  the  corruptible,  and  injurable,  and  change- 
able) as  being  in  space,  whether  infused  into  the  world,  or 
diffused  infinitely  without  it.  Because  whatsoever  I  con- 
ceived, deprived  of  this  space,  seemed  to  me  nothing,  yea 
altogether  nothing,  not  even  a  void,  as  if  a  body  were  taken 
out  of  its  place,  and  the  place  should  remain  empty  of  any 
body  at  all,  of  earth  and  water,  air  and  heaven,  yet  would  it 
remain  a  void  place,  as  it  were  a  spacious  nothing. 

I  then  being  thus  gross-hearted,  nor  clear  even  to  myself, 


332  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

whatsoever  was  not  extended  over  certain  spaces,  nor  dif- 
fused, nor  condensed,  nor  swelled  out,  or  did  not  or  could  not 
receive  some  of  these  dimensions,  I  thought  to  be  altogether 
nothing.  For  over  such  forms  as  my  eyes  are  wont  to  range, 
did  my  heart  then  range:  nor  yet  did  I  see  that  this  same 
notion  of  the  mind,  whereby  I  formed  those  very  images,  was 
not  of  this  sort,  and  yet  it  could  not  have  formed  them,  had 
not  itself  been  some  great  thing.  So  also  did  I  endeavor  to 
conceive  of  Thee,  Life  of  my  life,  as  vast,  through  infinite 
spaces,  on  every  side  penetrating  the  whole  mass  of  the  uni- 
verse, and  beyond  it,  every  way,  through  unmeasurable 
boundless  spaces;  so  that  the  earth  should  have  Thee,  the 
heaven  have  Thee,  all  things  have  Thee,  and  they  be  bounded 
in  Thee,  and  Thou  bounded  nowhere.  For  that  as  the  body 
of  this  air  which  is  above  the  earth,  hindereth  not  the  light 
of  the  sun  from  passing  through  it,  penetrating  it,  not  by 
bursting  or  by  cutting,  but  by  filling  it  wholly :  so  I  thought 
the  body  not  of  heaven,  air,  and  sea  only,  but  of  the  earth 
too,  pervious  to  Thee,  so  that  in  all  its  parts,  the  greatest  as 
the  smallest,  it  should  admit  Thy  presence,  by  a  secret  in- 
spiration, within  and  without,  directing  all  things  which  Thou 
hast  created.  So  I  guessed,  only  as  unable  to  conceive  aught 
else,  for  it  was  false.  For  thus  should  a  greater  part  of  the 
earth  contain  a  greater  portion  of  Thee,  and  a  less,  a  lesser: 
and  all  things  should  in  such  sort  be  full  of  Thee,  that  the 
body  of  an  elephant  should  contain  more  of  Thee  than  that  of 
a  sparrow,  by  how  much  larger  it  is,  and  takes  up  more  room ; 
and  thus  shouldest  Thou  make  the  several  portions  of  Thyself 
present  unto  the  several  portions  of  the  world,  in  fragments, 
large  to  the  large,  petty  to  the  petty.  But  such  art  not  Thou. 
But  not  as  yet  hadst  Thou  enlightened  my  darkness. 

And  I  strained  to  perceive  what  I  now  heard,  that  freewill 
was  the  cause  of  our  doing  ill,  and  Thy  just  judgment,  of  our 
suffering  ill.  But  I  was  not  able  clearly  to  discern  it.  So  then 
endeavoring  to  draw  my  soul's  vision  out  of  that  deep  pit,  I 
was  again  plunged  therein,  and  andeavoring  often,  I  was 
plunged  back  as  often.  But  this  raised  me  a  little  into  Thy 
light,  that  I  knew  as  well  that  I  had  a  will,  as  that  I  lived : 
when  then  I  did  will  or  nill  anything,  I  was  most  sure,  that 
no  other  than  myself  did  will  and  nill :  and  I  all  but  saw  that 


SAINT  AUGUSTINE  333 

there  was  the  cause  of  my  sin.  But  what  I  did  against  my 
will,  I  saw  that  I  suffered  rather  than  did,  and  I  judged 
not  to  be  my  fault,  but  my  punishment;  whereby  however, 
holding  thee  to  be  just,  I  speedily  confessed  myself  to  be  not 
unjustly  punished.  But  again  I  said,  Who  made  me?  Did 
not  my  God,  who  is  not  only  good,  but  goodness  itself? 
Whence  then  came  I  to  will  evil  and  nill  good,  so  that  I  am 
thus  justly  punished  ?  who  set  this  in  me,  and  ingrafted  into 
me  this  plant  of  bitterness,  seeing  I  was  wholly  formed  by 
my  most  sweet  God  ?  If  the  devil  were  the  author,  whence  is 
that  same  devil  ?  And  if  he  also  by  his  own  perverse  will,  of 
a  good  angel  became  a  devil,  whence,  again,  came  in  him 
that  evil  will,  whereby  he  became  a  devil,  seeing  the  whole 
nature  of  angels  was  made  by  that  most  good  Creator?  By 
these  thoughts  I  was  again  sunk  down  and  choked ;  yet  not 
brought  down  to  that  hell  of  error,  (where  no  man  confesseth 
unto  Thee,)  to  think  rather  that  Thou  dost  suffer  ill,  than 
that  man  doth  it. 

By  this  time  also  had  I  rejected  the  lying  divinations  and 
impious  dotages  of  the  astrologers.  Let  Thine  own  mercies, 
out  of  my  very  inmost  soul,  confess  unto  Thee  for  this  also,  O 
my  God.  For  Thou,  Thou  altogether,  (for  who  else  calls  us 
back  from  the  death  of  all  errors,  save  the  Life  which  cannot 
die,  and  the  Wisdom  which  needing  no  light  enlightens  the 
minds  that  need  it,  whereby  the  universe  is  directed,  down  to 
the  whirling  leaves  of  trees?)  Thou  madest  provision  for  my 
obstinacy  wherewith  I  struggled  against  Vindicianus,  an 
acute  old  man,  and  Nebridius,  a  young  man  of  admirable 
talents;  the  first  vehemently  affirming,  and  the  latter  often 
(though  with  some  doubtfulness)  saying,  "That  there  was 
no  such  art  whereby  to  foresee  things  to  come,  but  that  men's 
conjectures  were  a  sort  of  lottery,  and  that  out  of  many 
things,  which  they  said  should  come  to  pass,  some  actually 
did,  unawares  to  them  who  spake  it,  who  stumbled  upon  it, 
through  their  oft  speaking."  Thou  providedst  then  a  friend 
for  me,  no  negligent  consulter  of  the  astrologers;  nor  yet 
well  skilled  in  those  arts,  but  (as  I  said)  a  curious  consulter 
with  them,  and  yet  knowing  something,  which  he  said  he  had 
heard  of  his  father,  which  how  far  it  went  to  overthrow  the 
estimation  of  that  art,  he  knew  not.  This  man  then,  Firminus 


334-  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

by  name,  having  had  a  liberal  education,  and  well  taught  in 
Rhetoric,  consulted  me,  as  one  very  dear  to  him,  what,  ac- 
cording to  his  so-called  constellations,  I  thought  on  certain 
affairs  of  his,  wherein  his  worldly  hopes  had  risen,  and  I,  who 
had  herein  now  begun  to  incline  towards  Nebridius'  opinion, 
did  not  altogether  refuse  to  conjecture,  and  tell  him  what 
came  into  my  unresolved  mind ;  but  added,  that  I  was  now 
almost  persuaded,  that  these  were  but  empty  and  ridiculous 
follies.  Thereupon  he  told  me,  that  his  father  had  been  very 
curious  in  such  books,  and  had  a  friend  as  earnest  in  them 
as  himself,  who  with  joint  study  and  conference  fanned  the 
flame  of  their  affections  to  these  toys,  so  that  they  would 
observe  the  moments,  whereat  the  very  dumb  animals,  which 
bred  about  their  houses,  gave  birth,  and  then  observed  the 
relative  position  of  the  heavens,  thereby  to  make  fresh  experi- 
ments in  this  so-called  art.  He  said  then  that  he  had  heard 
of  his  father,  that  what  time  his  mother  was  about  to  give 
birth  to  him,  Firminus,  a  woman-servant  of  that  friend  of 
his  father's,  was  also  with  child,  which  could  not  escape  her 
master,  who  took  care  with  most  exact  diligence  to  know  the 
births  of  his  very  puppies.  And  so  it  was,  that  (the  one  for 
his  wife,  and  the  other  for  his  servant,  with  the  most  careful 
observation,  reckoning  days,  hours,  nay,  the  lesser  divisions 
of  the  hours,)  both  were  delivered  at  the  same  instant;  so 
that  both  were  constrained  to  allow  the  same  constellations, 
even  to  the  minutest  points,  the  one  for  his  son,  the  other  for 
his  new-born  slave.  For  so  soon  as  the  women  began  to  be  in 
labor,  they  each  gave  notice  to  the  other  what  was  fallen  out 
in  their  houses,  and  had  messengers  ready  to  send  to  one 
another,  so  soon  as  they  had  notice  of  the  actual  birth,  of 
which  they  had  easily  provided,  each  in  his  own  province,  to 
give  instant  intelligence.  Thus  then  the  messengers  of  the 
respective  parties  met,  he  averred,  at  such  an  equal  distance 
from  either  house,  that  neither  of  them  could  make  out  any 
difference  in  the  position  of  the  stars,  or  any  other  minutest 
points;  and  yet  Firminus,  born  in  a  high  estate  in  his  parents' 
house,  ran  his  course  through  the  gilded  paths  of  life,  was 
increased  in  riches,  raised  to  honors ;  whereas  that  slave  con- 
tinued to  serve  his  masters,  without  any  relaxation  of  his  yoke, 
as  Firminus,  who  knew  him,  told  me. 


SAINT  AUGUSTINE  335 

Upon  hearing  and  believing  these  things,  told  by  one  of 
such  credibility,  all  that  my  resistance  gave  way;  and  first  I 
endeavored  to  reclaim  Firminus  himself  from  that  curiosity, 
by  telling  him,  that  upon  inspecting  his  constellations,  I 
ought,  if  I  were  to  predict  truly,  to  have  seen  in  them,  parents 
eminent  among  their  neighbors,  a  noble  family  in  its  own  city, 
high  birth,  good  education,  liberal  learning.  But  if  that  ser- 
vant had  consulted  me  upon  the  same  constellations,  since  they 
were  his  also,  I  ought  again  (to  tell  him  too  truly)  to  see  in 
them  a  lineage  the  most  abject,  a  slavish  condition,  and  every- 
thing else,  utterly  at  variance  with  the  former.  Whence  then 
if  I  spake  the  truth,  I  should,  from  the  same  constellations, 
speak  diversely,  or  if  I  spake  the  same,  speak  falsely :  thence 
it  followed  most  certainly,  that  whatever,  upon  consideration 
of  the  constellations,  was  spoken  truly,  was  spoken  not  out  of 
art,  but  chance ;  and  whatever  spoken  falsely,  was  not  out  of 
ignorance  in  the  art,  but  the  failure  of  the  chance. 

An  opening  thus  made,  ruminating  with  myself  on  the  like 
things,  that  no  one  of  those  dotards  (who  lived  by  such  a 
trade,  and  whom  I  longed  to  attack,  and  with  derision  to 
confute)  might  urge  against  me,  that  Firminus  had  informed 
me  falsely,  or  his  father  him ;  I  bent  my  thoughts  on  those 
that  are  born  twins,  who  for  the  most  part  come  out  of  the 
womb  so  near  one  to  other,  that  the  small  interval  (how  much 
force  soever  in  the  nature  of  things  folk  may  pretend  it  to 
have)  cannot  be  noted  by  human  observation,  or  be  at  all 
expressed  in  those  figures  which  the  Astrologer  is  to  inspect, 
that  he  may  pronounce  truly.  Yet  they  cannot  be  true :  for 
looking  into  the  same  figures,  he  must  have  predicted  the  same 
of  Esau  and  Jacob,  whereas  the  same  happened  not  to  them. 
Therefore  he  must  speak  falsely ;  or  if  truly,  then,  looking 
into  the  same  figures,  he  must  not  give  the  same  answer.  Not 
by  art,  then,  but  by  chance,  would  he  speak  truly.  For  Thou, 
O  Lord,  most  righteous  Ruler  of  the  Universe,  while  con- 
suiters  and  consulted  know  it  not,  dost  by  Thy  hidden  in- 
spiration effect  that  the  consulter  should  hear  what  according 
to  the  hidden  deservings  of  souls,  he  ought  to  hear,  out  of  the 
unsearchable  depth  of  Thy  just  judgment,  to  Whom  let  no 
man  say,  What  is  this  ?  Why  that  ?  Let  him  not  so  say,  for 
he  is  man. 


336  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

Now  then,  O  my  Helper,  hadst  Thou  loosed  me  from  those 
fetters:  and  I  sought  "whence  is  evil,"  and  found  no  way. 
But  Thou  sufferedst  me  not  by  any  fluctuations  of  thought 
to  be  carried  away  from  the  Faith  whereby  I  believed  Thee 
both  to  be,  and  Thy  substance  to  be  unchangeable,  and  that 
Thou  hast  a  care  of,  and  wouldest  judge  men,  and  that  in 
Christ,  Thy  Son,  our  Lord,  and  the  holy  Scriptures,  which 
the  authority  of  Thy  Catholic  Church  pressed  upon  me,  Thou 
hadst  set  the  way  of  man's  salvation,  to  that  life  which  is  to 
be  after  this  death.  These  things  being  safe  and  immoveably 
settled  in  my  mind,  I  sought  anxiously  "whence  was  evil?" 
What  were  the  pangs  of  my  teeming  heart,  what  groans,  0 
my  God !  yet  even  there  were  Thine  ears  open,  and  I  knew  it 
not:  and  when  in  silence  I  vehemently  sought,  those  silent 
contritions  of  my  soul  were  strong  cries  unto  Thy  mercy. 
Thou  knewest  what  I  suffered,  and  no  man.  For,  what  was 
that  which  was  thence  through  my  tongue  distilled  into  the 
ears  of  my  most  familiar  friends?  Did  the  whole  tumult  of 
my  soul,  for  which  neither  time  nor  utterance  sufficed,  reach 
them?  Yet  went  up  the  whole  to  Thy  hearing,  all  which  I 
roared  out  from  the  groanings  of  my  heart;  and  my  desire 
was  before  Thee,  and  the  light  of  mine  eyes  was  not  with  me : 
for  that  was  within,  I  without :  nor  was  that  confined  to  place, 
but  I  was  intent  on  things  contained  in  place,  but 
there  found  I  no  resting-place,  nor  did  *hey  so  receive 
me,  that  I  could  say,  "It  is  enough,"  "it  is  well:"  nor  did 
they  yet  suffer  me  to  turn  back,  where  it  might  be  well  enough 
with  me.  For  to  these  things  was  I  superior,  but  inferior  to 
Thee ;  and  Thou  art  my  true  joy  when  subjected  to  Thee,  and 
Thou  hadst  subjected  to  me,  what  Thou  createdst  below  me. 
And  this  was  the  true  temperament,  and  middle  region  of 
my  safety,  to  remain  in  Thy  Image,  and  by  serving  Thee,  rule 
the  body.  But  when  I  rose  proudly  against  Thee,  and  ran 
against  the  Lord  with  my  neck,  with  the  thick  bosses  of  my 
buckler,  even  these  inferior  things  were  set  above  me,  and 
pressed  me  down,  and  nowhere  was  there  respite  or  space  of 
breathing.  They  met  my  sight  on  all  sides  by  heaps  and 
troops,  and  in  thought  the  images  thereof  presented  them- 
selves unsought,  as  I  would  return  to  Thee,  as  if  they  would 
say  unto  me,  "Whither  goest  thou,  unworthy  and  defiled?" 


SAINT  AUGUSTINE  337 

And  these  things  had  grown  out  of  my  wound;  for  Thou 
"humbledst  the  proud  like  one  that  is  wounded,"  and  through 
my  own  swelling  was  I  separated  from  Thee ;  yea,  my  pride- 
swollen  face  closed  up  mine  eyes. 

But  Thou,  Lord,  abidest  forever,  yet  not  forever  art  Thou 
angry  with  us ;  because  Thou  pitiest  our  dust  and  ashes,  and 
it  was  pleasing  in  Thy  sight  to  reform  my  deformities;  and 
by  inward  goads  didst  Thou  rouse  me,  that  I  should  be  ill  at 
ease,  until  Thou  wert  manifested  to  my  inward  sight.  Thus, 
by  the  secret  hand  of  Thy  medicining,  was  my  swelling  abated, 
and  the  troubled  and  bedimmed  eyesight  of  my  mind,  by  the 
smarting  anointings  of  healthful  sorrows,  was  from  day  to 
day  healed. 

And  Thou,  willing  first  to  shew  me,  how  Thou  resistest  the 
proud,  but  givest  grace  unto  the  humble,  and  by  how  great 
an  act  of  Thy  mercy  Thou  hadst  traced  out  to  men  the  way 
of  humility,  in  that  Thy  WORD  was  made  flesh,  and  dwelt 
among  men: — Thou  procuredst  for  me,  by  means  of  one 
puffed  up  with  most  unnatural  pride,  certain  books  of  the 
Platonists,  translated  from  Greek  into  Latin.  And  therein  I 
read,  not  indeed  in  the  very  words,  but  to  the  very  same  pur- 
pose, enforced  by  many  and  divers  reasons,  that  In  the  begin- 
ning was  the  Word,  and  the  Word  was  with  God,  and  the 
Word  was  God:  the  Same  was  in  the  beginning  with  God:  all 
things  were  made  by  Him,  and  without  Him  was  nothing 
made:  that  which  was  made  by  Him  is  life,  and  the  life  was 
the  light  of  men,  and  the  light  shineth  in  the  darkness,  and 
the  darkness  comprehended  it  not.  And  that  the  soul  of 
man,  though  it  bears  witness  to  the  light,  yet  itself  is  not  that 
light;  but  the  Word  of  God,  being  God,  is  that  true  light  that 
lighteth  every  man  that  cometh  into  the  world.  And  that 
He  was  in  the  world,  and  the  world  was  made  by  Him,  and 
the  world  knew  Him  not.  But,  that  He  came  unto  His  own, 
and  His  own  received  Him  not;  but  as  many  as  received  Him, 
to  them  gave  He  power  to  become  the  sons  of  God,  as  many  as 
believed  in  His  name;  this  I  read  not  there. 

And  therefore  did  I  read  there  also,  that  they  had  changed 
the  glory  of  Thy  incorruptible  nature  into  idols  and  divers 
shapes,  into  the  likeness  of  the  image  of  corruptible  man,  and 
birds,  and  beasts,  and  creeping  things;  namely  into  that 

A.  V.  1—22 


338  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

Egyptian  food,  for  which  Esau  lost  his  birth-right,  for  that 
Thy  first-born  people  worshiped  the  head  of  a  four-footed 
beast  instead  of  Thee ;  turning  in  heart  back  towards  Egypt ; 
and  bowing  Thy  image,  their  own  soul,  before  the  image  of 
a  calf  that  eateth  hay.  These  things  found  I  here,  but  I  fed 
not  on  them.  For  it  pleased  Thee,  O  Lord,  to  take  away 
the  reproach  of  diminution  from  Jacob,  that  the  elder  should 
serve  the  younger:  and  Thou  calledst  the  Gentiles  into  Thine 
inheritance.  And  I  had  come  to  Thee  from  among  the  Gen- 
tiles; and  I  set  my  mind  upon  the  gold  which  Thou  willedst 
Thy  people  to  take  from  Egypt,  seeing  Thine  it  was,  whereso- 
ever it  were.  And  to  the  Athenians  Thou  saidst  by  Thy 
Apostle,  that  in  Thee  we  live,  move,  and  have  our  being,  as 
one  of  their  own  poets  had  said.  And  verily  these  books  came 
from  thence.  But  I  set  not  my  mind  on  the  idols  of  Egypt, 
whom  they  served  with  Thy  gold,  who  changed  the  truth  of 
God  into  a  lie,  and  worshiped  and  served  the  creature  more 
than  the  Creator. 

And  being  thence  admonished  to  return  to  myself,  I  entered 
even  into  my  inward  self,  Thou  being  my  Guide :  and  able  I 
was,  for  Thou  wert  become  my  Helper.  And  I  entered  and 
beheld  with  the  eye  of  my  soul,  (such  as  it  was,)  above  the 
same  eye  of  my  soul,  above  my  mind,  the  Light  Unchangeable. 
Not  this  ordinary  light,  which  all  flesh  may  look  upon,  nor  as 
it  were  a  greater  of  the  same  kind,  as  though  the  brightness 
of  this  should  be  manifold  brighter,  and  with  its  greatness 
take  up  all  space.  Not  such  was  this  light,  but  other,  yea, 
far  other  from  all  these.  Nor  was  it  above  my  soul,  as  oil  is 
above  water,  nor  yet  as  heaven  above  earth :  but  above  to  my 
soul,  because  It  made  me ;  and  I  below  It,  because  I  was  made 
by  It.  He  that  knows  the  Truth,  knows  what  that  Light  is; 
and  he  that  knows  It,  knows  Eternity.  Love  knoweth  it.  O 
Truth  "Who  art  Eternity!  and  Love  Who  art  Truth!  and 
Eternity  Who  art  Love!  Thou  art  my  God,  to  Thee  do  I 
.sigh  night  and  day.  Thee  when  I  first  knew,  Thou  liftedst  me 
up,  that  I  might  see  there  was  what  I  mierM  see,  and  that  I 
was  not  yet  such  as  to  see.  And  Thou  didst  beat  back  the 
weakness  of  my  sight,  streaming  forth  Thy  beams  of  light 
upon  me  most  strongly,  and  I  trembled  with  love  and  awe: 
and  I  perceived  myself  to  be  far  off  from  Thee,  in  the  region 


SAINT  AUGUSTINE  339 

of  unlikeness,  as  if  I  heard  this  Thy  voice  from  on  high: 
' '  I  am  the  food  of  grown  men ;  grow,  and  thou  shalt  feed 
upon  Me;  nor  shalt  thou  convert  Me,  like  the  food  of  thy 
flesh,  into  thee,  but  thou  shalt  be  converted  into  Me. ' '  And  I 
learned,  that  Thou  for  iniquity  chastenest  man,  and  Thou 
modest  my  soul  to  consume  away  like  a  spider.  And  I  said, 
"Is  Truth  therefore  nothing  because  it  is  not  diffused  through 
space  finite  or  infinite?"  And  Thou  criedst  to  me  from 
afar;  "Yea  verily,  I  AM  that  I  AM."  And  I  heard,  as  the 
heart  heareth,  nor  had  I  room  to  doubt,  and  I  should  sooner 
doubt  that  I  live,  than  that  Truth  is  not,  which  is  clearly 
seen  being  understood  by  those  things  which  are  made. 

And  I  beheld  the  other  things  below  Thee,  and  I  perceived, 
that  they  neither  altogether  are,  nor  altogether  are  not,  for 
they  are,  since  they  are  from  Thee,  but  are  not,  because  they 
are  not,  what  Thou  art.  For  that  truly  is,  which  remains 
unchangeable.  It  is  good  then  for  me  to  hold  fast  unto  God; 
for  if  I  remain  not  in  Him,  I  cannot  in  myself;  but  He  re- 
maining in  himself,  reneweth  all  things.  And  Thou  art  the 
Lord  my  God,  since  Thou  standest  not  in  need  of  my  good- 
ness. 

And  it  was  manifested  unto  me,  that  those  things  be  good, 
which  yet  are  corrupted ;  which  neither  were  they  sovereignly 
good,  nor  unless  they  were  good,  could  be  corrupted :  for 
if  sovereignly  good,  they  were  incorruptible,  if  not  good  at 
all,  there  were  nothing  in  them  to  be  corrupted.  For  cor- 
ruption injures,  but  unless  it  diminished  goodness,  it  could 
not  injure.  Either  then  corruption  injures  not,  which  can 
not  be;  or  which  is  most  certain,  all  which  is  corrupted  is 
deprived  of  good.  But  if  they  be  deprived  of  all  good, 
they  shall  cease  to  be.  For  if  they  shall  be,  and  can  now 
no  longer  be  corrupted,  they  shall  be  better  than  before,  be- 
cause they  shall  abide  incorruptibly.  And  what  more  mon- 
strous, than  to  affirm  things  to  become  better  by  losing  all 
their  good  ?  Therefore,  if  they  shall  be  deprived  of  all  good, 
they  shall  no  longer  be.  So  long  therefore  as  they  are,  they 
are  good:  therefore  whatsoever  is,  is  good.  That  evil  then 
which  I  sought,  whence  it  is,  is  not  any  substance:  for  were 
it  a  substance,  it  should  be  good.  For  either  it  should  be  an 
incorruptible  substance,  and  so  a  chief  good :  or  a  corruptible 


840  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

substance ;  which  unless  it  were  good,  could  not  be  corrupted. 
I  perceived  therefore,  and  it  was  manifested  to  me,  that  Thou 
madest  all  things  good,  nor  is  there  any  substance  at  all, 
which  Thou  madest  not;  and  for  that  Thou  madest  not  all 
things  equal,  therefore  are  all  things;  because  each  is  good, 
and  altogether  very  good,  because  our  God  made  all  things 
very  good. 

And  to  Thee  is  nothing  whatsoever  evil:  yea,  not  only  to 
Thee,  but  also  to  Thy  creation  as  a  whole,  because  there 
is  nothing  without,  which  may  break  in,  and  corrupt  that 
order  which  Thou  hast  appointed  it.  But  in  the  parts  thereof 
some  things,  because  unharmonizing  with  other  some,  are 
accounted  evil :  whereas  those  very  things  harmonize  with 
others,  and  are  good ;  and  in  themselves  are  good.  And  all 
these  things  which  harmonize  not  together,  do  yet  with  the 
inferior  part,  which  we  call  Earth,  having  its  own  cloudy 
and  windy  sky  harmonizing  with  it.  Far  be  it  then  that  I 
should  say,  "These  things  should  not  be:"  for  should  I  see 
nought  but  these,  I  should  indeed  long  for  the  better;  but 
still  must  even  for  these  alone  praise  Thee;  for  that  Thou 
art  to  be  praised;  do  shew  from  the  earth,  dragons,  and  all 
deeps,  fire,  hail,  snow,  ice,  and  stormy  wind,  which  fulfill 
Thy  word;  mountains,  and  all  hills,  fruitful  trees,  and  all 
cedars;  bea&ts,  and  all  cattle,  creeping  things,  and  flying 
fowls;  kings  of  the-  earth,  and  all  people,  princes,  and  all 
judges  of  the  earth;  young  men  and  maidens,  old  men  and 
young,  praise  Thy  Name.  But  when,  from  heaven,  these 
praise  Thee,  praise  Thee,  our  God,  in  the  heights,  all  Thy 
angels,  all  Thy  hosts,  sun  and  moon,  all  the  stars  and  light, 
the  Heaven  of  heavens,  and  the  waters  that  be  above  the 
heavens,  praise  Thy  Name;  I  did  not  now  long  for  things 
better,  because  I  conceived  of  all:  and  with  a  sounder  judg- 
ment I  apprehended  that  the  things  above  were  better  than 
these  below,  but  all  together  better  than  those  above  by  them- 
selves. 

There  is  no  soundness  in  them,  whom  aught  of  Thy  crea- 
tion displeaseth:  as  neither  in  me,  when  much  which  Thou 
hast  made,  displeased  me.  And  because  my  soul  durst  not 
be  displeased  at  my  God,  it  would  fain  not  account  that 
Thine,  which  displeased  it.  Hence  it  had  gone  into  the 


SAINT  AUGUSTINE  341 

opinion  of  two  substances,  and  had  no  rest,  but  talked  idly. 
And  returning  thence,  it  had  made  to  itself  a  God,  through 
infinite  measures  of  all  space;  and  thought  it  to  be  Thee, 
and  placed  it  in  its  heart;  and  had  again  become  the  temple 
of  its  own  idol,  to  Thee  abominable.  But  after  Thou  hadst 
soothed  my  head,  unknown  to  me,  and  closed  mine  eyes  that 
they  should  not  behold  vanity,  I  ceased  somewhat  of  my 
former  self,  and  my  frenzy  was  lulled  to  sleep ;  and  I  awoke 
in  Thee,  and  saw  Thee  infinite,  but  in  another  way,  and  this 
sight  was  not  derived  from  the  flesh. 

And  I  wondered  that  I  now  loved  Thee,  and  no  phantasm 
for  Thee.  And  yet  did  I  not  press  on  to  enjoy  my  God ;  but 
was  borne  up  to  Thee  by  Thy  beauty,  and  soon  borne  down 
from  Thee  by  mine  own  weight,  sinking  with  sorrow  into 
these  inferior  things.  This  weight  was  carnal  custom.  Yet 
dwelt  there  with  me  a  remembrance  of  Thee;  nor  did  I  any 
way  doubt,  that  there  was  One  to  Whom  I  might  cleave, 
but  that  I  was  not  yet  such  as  to  cleave  to  Thee:  for  that  the 
body  which  is  corrupted,  presseth  down  the  soul,  and  the 
earthly  tabernacle  weigheth  down  the  mind  that  museth  upon 
many  things.  And  most  certain  I  was,  that  Thy  invisible 
works  from  the  creation  of  the  world  are  clearly  seen,  being 
understood  by  the  things  that  are  made,  even  Thy  eternal 
power  and  Godhead.  For  examining,  whence  it  was  that  I 
admired  the  beauty  of  bodies  celestial  or  terrestrial ;  and  what 
aided  me  in  judging  soundly  on  things  mutable,  and  pro- 
nouncing, "This  ought  to  be  thus,  this  not;"  examining,  I 
say,  whence  it  was  that  I  so  judged,  seeing  I  did  so  judge, 
I  had  found  the  unchangeable  and  true  Eternity  of  Truth, 
above  my  changeable  mind.  And  thus  by  degrees,  I  passed 
from  bodies  to  the  soul,  which  through  the  bodily  senses 
perceives;  and  thence  to  its  inward  faculty,  to  which  the 
bodily  senses  represent  things  external,  whitherto  reaches  the 
faculties  of  beasts ;  and  thence  again  to  the  reasoning  faculty, 
to  which  what  is  received  from  the  senses  of  the  body,  is  re- 
ferred to  be  judged.  Which  finding  itself  also  to  be  in  me  a 
thing  variable,  raised  itself  up  to  its  own  understanding,  and 
drew  away  my  thoughts  from  the  power  of  habit,  withdraw- 
ing itself  from  those  troops  of  contradictory  phantasms :( 
that  so  it  might  find  what  that  light  was,  whereby  it  was 


342  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

bedewed,  when,  without  all  doubting,  it  cried  out,  "That  the 
unchangeable  was  to  be  preferred  to  the  changeable ; ' '  whence 
also  it  knew  That  Unchangeable,  which,  unless  it  had  in  some 
way  known,  it  had  had  no  sure  ground  to  prefer  it  to  the 
changeable.  And  thus  with  the  flash  of  one  trembling  glance 
it  arrived  at  THAT  WHICH  Is.  And  then  I  saw  Thy  in- 
visible things  understood  by  the  things  which  are  made.  But 
I  could  not  fix  my  gaze  thereon ;  and  my  infirmity  being 
struck  back,  I  was  thrown  again  on  my  wonted  habits,  car- 
rying along  with  me  only  a  loving  memory  thereof,  and  a 
longing  for  what  I  had.  as  it  were,  perceived  the  odor  of, 
but  was  not  yet  able  to  feed  on. 

Then  I  sought  a  way  of  obtaining  strength,  sufficient  to 
enjoy  Thee;  and  found  it  not,  until  I  embraced  that  Mediator 
betwixt  God  and  men,  the  Man  Christ  Jesus,  who  is  over  all, 
God  blessed  for  evermore,  calling  unto  me,  and  saying,  7 
am  the  way,  the  truth,  and  the  life,  and  mingling  that  food 
which  I  was  unable  to  receive,  with  our  flesh.  For  the  Word 
was  made  flesh,  that  Thy  wisdom,  whereby  Thou  createdst 
all  things,  might  provide  milk  for  our  infant  state.  For  I 
did  not  hold  to  my  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  I  humbled  to  the 
humble ;  nor  knew  I  yet  whereto  His  infirmity  would  guide 
us.  For  Thy  Word,  the  Eternal  Truth,  far  above  the  higher 
parts  of  Thy  Creation,  raises  up  the  subdued  unto  Itself: 
but  in  this  lower  world  built  for  Itself  a  lowly  habitation 
of  our  clay,  whereby  to  abase  from  themselves  such  as  would 
be  subdued,  and  bring  them  over  to  Himself;  allaying  their 
swelling,  and  fomenting  their  love;  to  the  end  they  might 
go  on  no  further  in  self-confidence,  but  rather  consent  to 
become  weak,  seeing  before  their  feet  the  Divinity  weak  by 
taking  our  coats  of  skin;  and  wearied,  might  cast  themselves 
down  upon  It,  and  It  rising,  might  lift  them  up. 

But  I  thought  otherwise ;  conceiving  only  of  my  Lord 
Christ,  as  of  a  man  of  excellent  wisdom,  whom  no  one  could 
be  equaled  unto;  especially,  for  that  being  wonderfully  born 
of  a  Virgin,  He  seemed,  in  conformity  therewith,  through  the 
Divine  care  for  us,  to  have  attained  that  great  eminence  of 
authority,  for  an  ensample  of  despising  things  temporal  for 
the  obtaining  of  immortality.  But  what  mystery  there  lay 
in,  "The  Word  was  made  flesh,"  I  could  not  even  imagine. 


SAINT  AUGUSTINE  343 

Only  I  had  learnt  out  of  what  is  delivered  to  us  in  writing 
of  Him,  that  He  did  eat,  and  drink,  sleep,  walk,  rejoiced  in 
spirit,  was  sorrowful,  discoursed ;  that,  flesh  did  not  cleave 
by  itself  unto  Thy  Word,  but  with  the  human  soul  and  mind. 
All  know  this,  who  know  the  unchangeableness  of  Thy  Word, 
which  I  now  knew,  as  far  as  I  could,  nor  did  I  at  all  doubt 
thereof.  For,  now  to  move  the  limbs  of  the  body  by  will, 
now  not,  now  to  be  moved  by  some  affection,  now  not,  now 
to  deliver  wise  sayings  through  human  signs,  now  to  keep 
silence,  belong  to  soul  and  mind  subject  to  variation.  And 
should  these  things  be  falsely  written  of  Him,  all  the  rest 
also  would  risk  the  charge,  nor  would  there  remain  in  those 
books  any  saving  faith  for  mankind.  Since  then  they  were 
written  truly,  I  acknowledged  a  perfect  man  to  be  in  Christ ; 
not  the  body  of  a  man  only,  nor,  with  the  body,  a  sensitive 
soul  without  a  rational,  but  very  man;  whom,  not  only  as 
being  a  form  *  of  Truth,  but  for  a  certain  great  excellency  of 
human  nature  and  a  more  perfect  participation  of  wisdom, 
I  judged  to  be  preferred  before  others.  But  Alypius 
imagined  the  Catholics  to  believe  God  to  be  so  clothed  with 
flesh,  that  besides  God  and  flesh,  there  was  no  soul  at  all  in 
Christ,  and  did  not  think  that  a  human  mind  was  ascribed 
to  Him.  And  because  he  was  well  persuaded,  that  the  actions 
recorded  of  Him,  could  only  be  performed  by  a  vital  and  a 
rational  creature,  he  moved  the  more  slowly  towards  the 
Christian  Faith.  But  understanding  afterwards,  that  this 
was  the  error  of  the  Apollinarian  heretics,  he  joyed  in  and 
was  conformed  to  the  Catholic  Faith.  But  somewhat  later,  I 
confess,  did  I  learn,  how  in  that  saying,  The  Word  was  made 
flesh,  the  Catholic  Truth  is  distinguished  from  the  falsehood 
of  Photinus.  For  the  rejection  of  heretics  makes  the  tenets 
of  Thy  Church  and  sound  doctrine  to  stand  out  more  clearly. 
For  there  must  also  ~be  heresies,  that  the  approved  may  be 
made  manifest  among  the  weak. 

But  having  then  read  those  books  of  the  Platonists,  and 
thence  been  taught  to  search  for  incorporeal  truth,  I  saw  Thy 
invisible  things,  understood  by  those  things  which  are  made; 
and  though  cast  back,  I  perceived  what  that  was,  which 
through  the  darkness  of  my  mind  I  WPS  hindered  from  con- 

1  As  the  Manichees  thought. 


344  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

teinplating,  being  assured,  "That  Thou  wert,  and  wert  in- 
finite, and  yet  not  diffused  in  space,  finite  or  infinite ;  and  that 
Thou  truly  art  who  art  the  same  ever,  in  no  part  nor  motion, 
varying;  and  that  all  other  things  are  from  Thee,  on  this 
most  sure  ground  alone,  that  they  are."  Of  these  things 
I  was  assured,  yet  too  unsure  to  enjoy  Thee.  I  prated  as 
one  well  skilled ;  but  had  I  not  sought  Thy  way  in  Christ  our 
Savior,  I  had  proved  to  be,  not  skilled,  but  killed.  For  now 
I  had  begun  to  wish  to  seem  wise,  being  filled  with  mine  own 
punishment,  yet  I  did  not  mourn,  but  rather  scorn,  puffed 
up  with  knowledge.  For  where  was  that  charity  building 
upon  the  foundation  of  humility,  which  is  Christ  Jesusf  or 
when  should  these  books  teach  me  it  ?  Upon  these,  I  believe, 
Thou  therefore  willedst  that  I  should  fall,  before  I  studied 
Thy  Scriptures,  that  it  might  be  imprinted  on  my  memory, 
how  I  was  affected  by  them;  and  that  afterwards  when  my 
spirits  were  tamed  through  Thy  books,  and  my  wounds 
touched  by  Thy  healing  fingers,  I  might  discern  and  dis- 
tinguish between  presumption  and  confession;  between  those 
who  saw  whither  they  were  to  go,  yet  saw  not  the  way,  and 
the  way  that  leadeth  not  to  behold  only  but  to  dwell  in  the 
beatific  country.  For  had  I  first  been  formed  in  Thy  Holy 
Scriptures,  and  hadst  Thou,  in  the  familiar  use  of  them, 
grown  sweet  unto  me,  and  had  I  then  fallen  upon  those  other 
volumes,  they  might  perhaps  have  withdrawn  me  from  the 
solid  ground  of  piety,  or,  had  I  continued  in  that  healthful 
frame  which  I  had  thence  imbibed,  I  might  have  thought,  that 
it  might  have  been  obtained  by  the  study  of  those  books. 
Most  eagerly  then  did  I  seize  that  venerable  writing  of  Thy 
Spirit ;  and  chiefly  the  Apostle  Paul.  Whereupon  those  dif- 
ficulties vanished  away,  wherein  he  once  seemed  to  me  to 
contradict  himself,  and  the  text  of  his  discourse  not  to  agree 
with  the  testimonies  of  the  Law  and  the  Prophets.  And  the 
face  of  that  pure  word  appeared  to  me  one  and  the  same; 
and  I  learned  to  rejoice  with  trembling.  So  I  began;  and 
whatsoever  truth  I  had  read  in  those  other  books,  I  found 
here  amid  the  praise  of  Thy  Grace ;  that  whoso  sees,  may  not 
so  glory  as  if  he  had  not  received,  not  only  what  he  sees, 
but  also  that  he  sees,  (for  what  hath  he,  which  he  hath  not 
received?}  and  that  he  may  be  not  only  admonished  to  behold 


SAINT  AUGUSTINE  345 

Thee,  Who  art  ever  the  same,  but  also  healed,  to  hold  Thee ; 
and  that  he  who  cannot  see  afar  off,  may  yet  walk  on  the  way, 
whereby  he  may  arrive,  and  behold,  and  hold  Thee.  For, 
though  a  man  be  delighted  with  the  law  of  God  after  the 
inner  man,  what  shall  he  do  with  that  other  law  in  his  mem- 
bers which  warreth  against  the  law  of  his  mind,  and  bringeth 
him  into  captivity  to  the  law  of  sin  which  is  in  his  mem- 
bers ?  For,  Thou  art  righteous,  0  Lord,  but  we  have  sinned 
and  committed  iniquity,  and  have  done  wickedly,  and  Thy 
hand  is  grown  heavy  upon  us,  and  we  are  justly  delivered 
over  unto  that  ancient  sinner,  the  king  of  death ;  because  he 
persuaded  our  will  to  be  like  his  will,  whereby  he  abode 
not  in  Thy  truth.  What  shall  wretched  man  do?  who  shall 
deliver  him  from  the  body  of  this  death,  but  only  Thy  Grace, 
through  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord,  whom  Thou  hast  begotten 
coeternal,  and  formedst  in  the  beginning  bf  Thy  ways,  in 
whom  the  prince  of  this  world  found  nothing  worthy  of 
death,  yet  killed  he  Him;  and  the  handwriting,  which  was 
contrary  to  us,  was  blotted  out?  This  those  writings  con- 
tain not.  Those  pages  present  not  the  image  of  this  piety, 
the  tears  of  confession,  Thy  sacrifice,  a  troubled  spirit,  a 
broken  and  a  contrite  heart,  the  salvation  of  the  people,  the 
Bridal  City,  the  earnest  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  the  Cup  of  our 
Redemption.  No  man  sings  there,  Shall  not  my  soul  be  sub- 
mitted unto  God?  for  of  Him  cometh  my  salvation.  For  he 
is  my  God  and  my  salvation,  my  guardian,  I  shall  no  more 
be  moved.  No  one  there  hears  Him  call,  Come  unto  Me  all 
ye  that  labor.  They  scorn  to  learn  of  Him,  because  He  is 
meek  and  lowly  in  heart;  for  these  things  hast  Thou  hid 
from  the  wise  and  prudent,  and  hast  revealed  them  unto 
babes.  For  it  is  one  thing,  from  the  mountain's  shaggy  top 
to  see  the  land  of  peace,  and  to  find  no  way  thither ;  and  in 
vain  to  essay  through  ways  unpassable,  opposed  and  beset 
by  fugitives  and  deserters,  under  their  captain  the  lion  and 
the  drago-n:  and  another  to  keep  on  the  way  that  leads 
thither,  guarded  by  the  host  of  the  heavenly  General ;  where 
they  spoil  not  who  have  deserted  the  heavenly  army ;  for  they 
avoid  it,  as  very  tormont.  These  things  did  wonderfully  sink 
into  my  bowels,  when  T  read  that  least  of  Thy  Apostles,  and 
had  meditated  upon  Thy  works,  and  trembled  exceedingly. 


346  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

BOOK  vm 

O  MY  God,  let  me,  with  thanksgiving,  remember,  and  con- 
fess unto  Thee  Thy  mercies  on  me.  Let  my  bones  be  bedewed 
with  Thy  love,  and  let  them  say  unto  Thee,  Who  is  like  unto 
Thcc,  0  Lord?  Thou  hast  broken  my  bonds  in  sunder,  I 
will  offer  unto  Thee  the  sacrifice  of  thanksgiving.  And  how 
Thou  hast  broken  them,  I  will  declare;  and  all  who  worship 
Thee,  when  they  hear  this,  shall  say,  "Blessed  be  the  Lord, 
in  heaven  and  in  earth,  great  and  wonderful  is  His  name." 
Thy  words  had  stuck  fast  in  my  heart,  and  I  was  hedged 
round  about  on  all  sides  by  Thee.  Of  Thy  eternal  life  I 
was  now  certain,  though  I  saw  it  in  a  figure  and  as  through 
a  glass.  Yet  I  had  ceased  to  doubt  that  there  was  an  in- 
corruptible substance,  whence  was  all  other  substance ;  nor 
did  I  now  desire  to  be  more  certain  of  Thee,  but  more  stead- 
fast in  Thee.  But  for  my  temporal  life,  all  was  wavering, 
and  my  heart  had  to  be  purged  from  the  old  leaven.  The 
Way,  the  Savior  Himself,  well  pleased  me,  but  as  yet  I  shrunk 
from  going  through  its  straitness.  And  Thou  didst  put  into 
my  mind,  and  it  seemed  good  in  my  eyes,  to  go  to  Sim- 
plicianus,1  wrho  seemed  to  me  a  good  servant  of  Thine;  and 
Thy  grace  shone  in  him.  I  had  heard  also,  that  from  his 
very  youth  he  had  lived  most  devoted  unto  Thee.  Now  he  was 
grown  into  years;  and  by  reason  of  so  great  age  spent  in 
such  zealous  following  of  Thy  ways,  he  seemed  to  me  likely 
to  have  learned  much  experience;  and  so  he  had.  Out  of 
which  store,  I  wished  that  he  would  tell  me  (setting  before 
him  my  anxieties)  which  were  the  fittest  way  for  one  in  my 
case  to  walk  in  Thy  paths. 

For,  I  saw  the  church  full ;  and  one  went  this  way,  and  an- 
other that  way.  But  I  was  displeased,  that  I  led  a  secular 
J'fe;  yea  now  that  my  desires  no  longer  inflamed  me,  as  of 
(•Id,  with  hopes  of  honor  and  profit,  a  very  grievous  burden 
it  was  to  undergo  so  heavy  a  bondage.  For,  in  comparison 
of  Thy  sweetness,  and  the  beauty  of  Thy  house  which  I 
Inrrrf,  those  things  delighted  me  no  longer.  But  still  I  was 
enthralled  with  the  love  of  woman ;  nor  did  the  Apostle  for- 

1  Simplicianus  became  a  successor  of  the  moat  blessed  Ambrose,  Bishop 
of  t!.«'  Church  of  Milan. 


SAINT  AUGUSTINE  34-7 

bid  me  to  marry,  although  he  advised  me  to  something  better, 
chiefly  wishing  that  all  men  were  as  himself  was.  But  I  be- 
ing weak,  chose  the  more  indulgent  place ;  and  because  of  this 
alone,  was  tossed  up  and  down  in  all  beside,  faint  and  wasted 
with  withering  cares,  because  in  other  matters,  I  was  con- 
strained against  my  will  to  conform  myself  to  a  married  life, 
to  which  I  was  given  up  and  enthralled.  I  had  heard  from 
the  mouth  of  the  Truth,  that  there  were  some  eunuchs,  which 
had  made  themselves  eunuchs  for  the  kingdom  of  heaven's 
sake:  but,  saith  He,  let  him  who  can  receive  it  receive  it. 
Surely  vain  are  all  men  ivho  are  ignorant  of  God,  and  could 
not  out  of  the  good  things  which  are  seen,  find  out  Him  who 
is  good.  But  I  was  no  longer  in  that  vanity;  I  had  sur- 
mounted it;  and  by  the  common  witness  of  all  Thy  creatures, 
had  found  Thee  our  Creator,  and  Thy  "Word,  God  with  Thee, 
and  together  with  Thee  one  God,  by  whom  Thou  createdst 
all  things.  There  is  yet  another  kind  of  ungodly,  who  know- 
ing God,  glorified  Him  not  as  God,  neither  were  thankful. 
Into  this  also  had  I  fallen,  but  Thy  right  hand  upheld  me, 
and  took  me  thence,  and  Thou  placedst  me  where  I  might 
recover.  For  Thou  hadst  said  unto  man,  Behold,  the  fear 
of  the  Lord  is  wisdom,  and,  Desire  not  to  seem  wise;  because 
they  who  affirmed  themselves  to  be  wise,  became  fools.  But 
I  had  now  found  the  goodly  pearl,  which,  selling  all  that  I 
had,  I  ought  to  have  bought,  and  I  hesitated. 

To  Simplicianus  then  I  went,  the  father  of  Ambrose  (a 
Bishop  now)  in  receiving  Thy  grace,  and  whom  Ambrose 
truly  loved  as  a  father.  To  him  I  related  the  mazes  of  my 
wanderings.  But  when  I  mentioned  that  I  had  read  certain 
books  of  the  Platonists,  which  Victorinus,  sometime  Rhetoric 
Professor  of  Rome,  (who  had  died  a  Christian,  as  I  had 
heard,)  had  translated  into  Latin,  he  testified  his  joy  that  I 
had  not  fallen  upon  the  writings  of  other  philosophers,  full 
of  fallacies  and  deceits,  after  the  rudiments  of  this  world, 
whereas  the  Platonists  many  ways  led  to  the  belief  in  God, 
and  His  Word.  Then  to  exhort  me  to  the  humility  of  Christ, 
hidden  from  the  wise,  and  revealed  to  little  ones,  he  spoke 
of  Victorinus  himself  whom  while  at  Rome  he  had  most  in- 
timately known :  and  of  him  he  related  what  I  will  not  con- 
ceal. For  it  contains  great  praise  of  Thy  grace,  to  be  con- 


34-8  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

fessed  unto  Thee,  how  that  aged  man,  most  learned  and 
skilled  in  the  liberal  sciences,  and  who  had  read,  and  weighed 
so  many  works  of  the  philosophers;  the  instructor  of  so 
many  noble  Senators,  who  also,  as  a  monument  of  his  ex- 
cellent discharge  of  his  office,  had  (which  men  of  this  world 
esteem  a  high  honor)  both  deserved  and  obtained  a  statue 
in  the  Roman  Forum ;  he,  to  that  age  a  worshiper  of  idols, 
and  a  partaker  of  the  sacrilegious  rites,  to  which  almost  all 
the  nobility  of  Rome  were  given  up,  and  had  inspired  the 
people  with  the  love  of 

Anubis,  barking  Deity,  and  all 

The  monster  Gods  of  every  kind,  who  fought 

'Gainst  Neptune,  Venus,  and  Minerva: 

whom  Rome  once  conquered,  now  adored,  all  which  the  aged 
Victorinus  had  with  thundering  eloquence  so  many  years  de- 
fended ; — he  now  blushed  not  to  be  the  child  of  Thy  Christ, 
and  the  new-born  babe  of  Thy  fountain ;  submitting  his  neck 
to  the  yoke  of  humility,  and  subduing  his  forehead  to  the 
reproach  of  the  Cross. 

O  Lord,  Lord,  Which  hast  bowed  the  heavens  and  conic 
down,  touched  the  mountains  and  they  did  smoke,  by  what 
means  didst  Thou  convey  Thyself  into  that  breast?  He  used 
to  read  (as  Simplicianus  said)  the  holy  Scripture,  most 
studiously  sought  and  searched  into  all  the  Christian  writ- 
ings, and  said  to  Simplicianus,  (not  openly,  but  privately  and 
as  a  friend,)  "Understand  that  I  am  already  a  Christian." 
Whereto  he  answered,  "I  will  not  believe  it,  nor  will  I  rank 
you  among  Christians,  unless  I  see  you  in  the  Church  of 
Christ."  The  other,  in  banter,  replied,  "Do  walls  then  make 
Christians?"  And  this  he  often  said,  that  he  was  already 
a  Christian ;  and  Simplicianus  as  often  made  the  same  an- 
swer, and  the  conceit  of  the  "walls"  was  by  the  other  as 
often  renewed.  For  he  feared  to  offend  his  friends,  proud 
daemon-worshipers,  from  the  height  of  whose  Babylonian 
dignity,  as  from  cedars  of  Libanus,  which  the  Lord  had  not 
yet  broken  down,  he  supposed  the  weight  of  enmity  would 
fall  upon  him.  But  after  that  by  reading  and  earnest  thought 
he  had  gathered  firmness,  and  feared  to  be  denied  by  Christ 
before  the  holy  angels,  should  he  now  be  afraid  to  co-nfess 


SAINT  AUGUSTINE  349 

him  before  men,  and  appeared  to  himself  guilty  of  a  heavy 
offense,  in  being  ashamed  of  the  Sacraments  of  the  humility 
of  Thy  Word,  and  not  being  ashamed  of  the  sacrilegious 
rites  of  those  proud  daemons,  whose  pride  he  had  imitated  and 
their  rites  adopted,  he  became  bold-faced  against  vanity, 
and  shame-faced  towards  the  truth,  and  suddenly  and  unex- 
pectedly said  to  Simplicianus,  (as  himself  told  me,)  "Go  we 
to  the  Church;  I  wish  to  be  made  a  Christian."  But  he,  not 
containing  himself  for  joy,  went  with  him.  And  having  been 
admitted  to  the  first  Sacrament  and  become  a  Catechumen, 
not  long  after  he  further  gave  in  his  name,  that  he  might 
be  regenerated  by  baptism,  Rome  wondering,  the  Church  re- 
joicing. The  proud  saw,  and  were  wroth;  they  gnashed  with 
their  teeth,  and  melted  away.  But  the  Lord  God  was  the 
hope  of  Thy  servant,  and  he  regarded  not  vanities  and  lying 
madness. 

To  conclude,  when  the  hour  was  come  for  making  pro- 
fession of  his  faith,  (which  at  Rome  they,  who  are  about  to 
approach  to  Thy  grace,  deliver,  from  an  elevated  place,  in 
the  sight  of  all  the  faithful,  in  a  set  form  of  words  2  com- 
mitted to  memory,)  the  presbyters,  he  said,  offered  Victorinus 
(as  was  done  to  such,  as  seemed  likely  through  bashful- 
ness  to  be  alarmed)  to  make  his  profession  more  privately: 
but  he  chose  rather  to  profess  his  salvation  in  the  presence  of 
the  holy  multitude.  "For  it  was  not  salvation  that  he 
taught  in  rhetoric,  and  yet  that  he  had  publicly  professed. 
How  much  less  then  ought  he,,  when  pronouncing  Thy  word, 
to  dread  Thy  meek  flock,  who,  when  delivering  his  own  words, 
had  not  feared  a  mad  multitude!"  When,  then,  he  went  up 
to  make  his  profession,  all,  as  they  knew  him,  whispered  his 
name  one  to  another  with  the  voice  of  congratulation.  And 
who  there  knew  him  not?  and  there  ran  a  low  murmur 
through  all  the  mouths  of  the  rejoicing  multitude,  Victorinus ! 
Victorinus!  Sudden  was  the  burst  of  rapture,  that  they 
saw  him ;  suddenly  were  they  hushed  that  they  might  hear 
him.  He  pronounced  the  true  faith  with  an  excellent  bold- 
ness, and  all  wished  to  draw  him  into  their  very  heart:  yea- 

'The  Apostles'  Creed,  which  was  delivered  orally  to  the  Catechumens 
to  commit  to  memory,  and  by  them  "delivered  back,"  i.e.  publicly  re- 
peated before  they  were  baptized. 


350  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

by  their  love  and  joy  they  drew  him  thither;  such  were  the 
hands  wherewith  they  drew  him. 

But  when  that  man  of  Thine,  Simplicianus,  related  to  me 
this  of  Victorinus,  I  was  on  fire  to  imitate  him;  for  this 
very  end  had  he  related  it.  But  when  he  had  subjoined  also, 
how  in  the  days  of  the  Emperor  Julian,  a  law  was  made, 
whereby  Christians  were  forbidden  to  teach  the  liberal 
sciences  or  oratory;  and  how  he,  obeying  this  law,  chose 
rather  to  give  over  the  wordy  school,  than  Thy  Word,  by 
which  Thou  makcst  eloquent  the  tongues  of  the  dumb;  he 
seemed  to  me  not  more  resolute  than  blessed,  in  having  thus 
found  opportunity  to  wait  on  Thee  only.  "Which  thing  I  was 
sighing  for,  bound  as  I  was,  not  with  another's  irons,  but 
by  my  own  iron  will.  My  will  the  enemy  held,  and  thence 
had  made  a  chain  for  me,  and  bound  me.  For  of  a  froward 
will,  was  a  lust  made ;  and  a  lust  served,  became  custom ;  and 
custom  not  resisted,  became  necessity.  By  which  links,  as 
it  were,  joined  together  (whence  I  called  it  a  chain)  a  hard 
bondage  held  me  enthralled.  But  that  new  will  which  had 
begun  to  be  in  me,  freely  to  serve  Thee,  and  to  wish  to  enjoy 
Thee,  O  God,  the  only  assured  pleasantness,  was  not  yet  able 
to  overcome  my  former  willfulness,  strengthened  by  age.  Thus 
did  my  two  wills,  one  new,  and  the  other  old,  one  carnal,  the 
other  spiritual,  struggle  within  me;  and  by  their  discord, 
undid  my  soul. 

Thus  I  understood,  by  my  own  experience,  what  I  had 
read,  how  the  flesh  lusteth  against  the  spirit  and  the  spirit 
against  the  flesh.  Myself  verily  either  way;  yet  more  my- 
self, in  that  which  I  approved  in  myself,  than  in  that  which 
in  myself  I  disapproved.  For  in  this  last,  it  was  now  for 
the  more  part  not  myself,  because  in  much  I  rather  endured 
against  my  will,  than  acted  willingly.  And  yet  it  was  through 
me,  that  custom  had  obtained  this  power  of  warring  against 
me,  because  I  had  come  willingly,  whither  I  willed  not.  And 
who  has  any  right  to  speak  against  it,  if  just  punishment 
follow  the  sinner?  Nor  had  I  now  any  longer  my  former 
plea,  that  I  therefore  as  yet  hesitated  to  be  above  the  world 
and  serve  Thee,  for  that  the  truth  was  not  altogether  as- 
certained to  me ;  for  now  it  too  was.  But  I,  still  under  service 
to  the  earth,  refused  to  fight  under  Thy  banner,  and  feared  as 


SAINT  AUGUSTINE  351 

much  to  be  freed  of  all  encumbrances,  as  we  should  fear  to 
be  encumbered  with  it.  Thus  with  the  baggage  of  this 
present  world  was  I  held  down  pleasantly,  as  in  sleep :  and 
the  thoughts  wherein  I  meditated  on  Thee,  were  like  the 
efforts  of  such  as  would  awake,  who  yet  overcome  with  a 
heavy  drowsiness,  are  again  drenched  therein.  And  as  no 
one  would  sleep  for  ever,  and  in  all  men's  sober  judgment, 
waking  is  better,  yet  a  man  for  the  most  part,  feeling  a 
heavy  lethargy  in  all  his  limbs,  defers  to  shake  off  sleep, 
and,  though  half  displeased,  yet,  even  after  it  is  time  to  rise, 
with  pleasure  yields  to  it,  so  was  I  assured,  that  much  better 
were  it  for  me  to  give  myself  up  to  thy  charity,  than  to 
give  myself  over  to  mine  own  cupidity;  but  though  the 
former  course  satisfied  me  and  gained  the  mastery,  the  latter 
pleased  me  and  held  me  mastered.  Nor  had  I  anything  to 
answer  Thee  calling  to  me,  Awake,  than  that  steepest,  and 
arise  from  the  dead,  and  Christ  shall  give  thee  light.  And 
when  Thou  didst  on  all  sides  shew  me,  that  what  Thou  saidst 
was  true,  I,  convicted  by  the  truth,  had  nothing  at  all  to 
answer,  but  only  those  dull  and  drowsy  words,  "Anon,  anon," 
"presently;"  "leave  me  but  a  little."  But  "presently, 
presently,"  had  no  present,  and  my  "little  while"  went  on 
for  a  long  while;  in  vain  I  delighted  in  Thy  law  according 
to  the  inner  man,  when  another  law  in  my  members,  rebelled 
against  the  law  of  my  mind,  and  led  me  captive  under  the 
law  of  sin  which  was  in  my  members.  For  the  law  of  sin 
is  the  violence  of  custom,  whereby  the  mind  is  drawn  and 
holden,  even  against  its  will ;  but  deservedly,  for  that  it  will- 
ingly fell  into  it.  Who  then  should  deliver  me  thus  wretched 
from  the  body  of  this  death,  but  Thy  grace  only,  through 
Jesus  Christ  our  Lord? 

And  how  Thou  didst  deliver  me  out  of  the  bonds  of  desire, 
wherewith  I  was  bound  most  straitly  to  carnal  concupiscence, 
and  out  of  the  drudgery  of  worldly  things,  I  will  now  declare, 
and  confess  unto  Thy  name,  0  Lord,  my  helper  and  my  re- 
deemer. Amid  increasing  anxiety,  I  was  doing  my  wonted 
business,  and  daily  sighing  unto  Thee.  I  attended  Thy 
Church,  whenever  free  from  the  business  under  the  burden 
of  which  I  groaned.  Alypius  was  with  me,  now  after  the 
third  sitting  released  from  his  law  business,  and  awaiting 


352  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

to  whom  to  sell  his  counsel,  as  I  sold  the  skill  of  speaking,  if 
indeed  teaching  can  impart  it.  Nebridius  had  now,  in  con- 
sideration of  our  friendship,  consented  to  teach  under 
Verecundus,  a  citizen  and  a  grammarian  of  Milan,  and  a  very 
intimate  friend  of  us  all;  who  urgently  desired,  and  by  the 
right  of  friendship  challenged  from  our  company,  such  faith- 
ful aid  as  he  greatly  needed.  Nebridius  then  was  not  drawn 
to  this  by  any  desire  of  advantage,  (for  he  might  have  made 
much  more  of  his  learning  had  he  so  willed,)  but  as  a  most 
kind  and  gentle  friend,  he  would  not  be  wanting  to  a  good 
office,  and  slight  our  request.  But  he  acted  herein  very  dis- 
creetly, shunning  to  become  known  to  personages  great  ac- 
cording to  this  world,  avoiding  the  distraction  of  mind  thence 
ensuing,  and  desiring  to  have  it  free  and  at  leisure,  as  many 
hours  as  might  be,  to  seek,  or  read,  or  hear  something  con- 
cerning wisdom. 

Upon  a  day  then,  Nebridius  being  absent,  (I  recollect  not 
why,)  lo,  there  came  to  see  me  and  Alypius,  one  Pontitianus, 
our  countryman  so  far  as  being  an  African,  in  high  office 
in  the  Emperor's  court.  What  he  would  with  us,  I  know  not, 
but  we  sat  down  to  converse,  and  it  happened  that  upon  a 
table  for  some  game,  before  us,  he  observed  a  book,  took, 
opened  it,  and  contrary  to  his  expectation,  found  it  the 
Apostle  Paul ;  for  he  had  thought  it  some  of  those  books, 
which  I  was  wearing  myself  in  teaching.  Whereat  smiling, 
and  looking  at  me,  he  expressed  his  joy  and  wonder,  that 
he  had  on  a  sudden  found  this  book,  and  this  only  before 
my  eyes.  For  he  was  a  Christian,  and  baptized,  and  often 
bowed  himself  before  Thee  our  God  in  the  Church,  in  frequent 
and  continued  prayers.  When  then  I  had  told  him,  that  I 
bestowed  very  great  pains  upon  those  Scriptures,  a  conversa- 
tion arose  (suggested  by  his  account)  on  Antony  the  Egyp- 
tian Monk:  whose  name  was  in  high  reputation  among  Thy 
servants,  though  to  that  hour  unknown  to  us.  Which  when 
he  discovered,  he  dwelt  the  more  upon  that  subject,  inform- 
ing and  wondering  at  our  ignorance  of  one  so  eminent.  But 
we  stood  amazed,  hearing  Thy  wonderful  works  most  fully 
attested,  in  times  so  recent,  and  almost  in  our  own,  wrought 
in  the  true  Faith  and  Church  Catholic.  We  all  wondered ; 
we,  that  they  were  so  great ;  he,  that  they  had  not  reached  us. 


SAINT  AUGUSTINE  353 

Thence  his  discourse  turned  to  the  flocks  in  the  Monasteries, 
and  their  holy  ways,  a  sweet  smelling  savor  unto  Thee,  and 
the  fruitful  deserts  of  the  wilderness,  whereof  we  knew  noth- 
ing. And  there  was  a  Monastery  at  Milan,  full  of  good 
brethren,  without  the  city  walls,  under  the  fostering  care 
of  Ambrose,  and  we  knew  it  not.  He  went  on  with  his  dis- 
course, and  we  listened  in  intent  silence.  He  told  us  then 
how  one  afternoon  at  Triers,  when  the  Emperor  was  taken  up 
with  the  Circensian  games,  he  and  three  others,  his  com- 
panions, went  out  to  walk  in  gardens  near  the  city  walls,  and 
there  as  they  happened  to  walk  in  pairs,  one  went  apart  with 
him,  and  the  other  two  wandered  by  themselves;  and  these, 
in  their  wanderings,  lighted  upon  a  certain  cottage,  inhabited 
by  certain  of  thy  servants,  poor  in  spirit,  of  whom  is  the 
kingdom  of  heaven,  and  there  they  found  a  little  book,  con- 
taining the  life  of  Antony.  This  one  of  them  began  to  read, 
admire,  and  kindle  at  it;  and  as  he  read,  to  meditate  on 
taking  up  such  a  life,  and  giving  over  his  secular  service 
to  serve  Thee.  And  these  two  were  of  those  whom  they 
style  agents  for  the  public  affairs.  Then  suddenly,  filled  with 
an  holy  love,  and  a  sober  shame,  in  anger  with  himself  he 
cast  his  eyes  upon  his  friend,  saying,  "Tell  me,  I  pray  thee, 
what  would  we  attain  by  all  these  labors  of  ours?  what  aim 
we  at?  what  serve  we  for?  Can  our  hopes  in  court  rise 
higher  than  to  be  the  Emperor 's  favorites  ?  and  in  this,  what 
is  there  not  brittle,  and  full  of  perils?  and  by  how  many 
perils  arrive  we  at  a  greater  peril?  And  when  arrive  we 
thither?  But  a  friend  of  God,  if  I  wish  it,  I  become  now  at 
once."  So  spake  he.  And  in  pain  with  the  travail  of  a 
new  life,  he  turned  his  eyes  again  upon  the  book,  and  read 
on,  and  was  changed  inwardly,  where  Thou  sawest,  and  his 
mind  was  stripped  of  the  world,  as  soon  appeared.  For 
as  he  read,  and  rolled  up  and  down  the  waves  of  his  heart, 
he  stormed  at  himself  a  while,  then  discerned,  and  determined 
on  a  better  course ;  and  now  being  Thine,  said  to  his  friend, 
"Now  have  I  broken  loose  from  those  our  hopes,  and  am  re- 
solved to  serve  God;  and  this,  from  this  hour,  in  this  place, 
I  begin  upon.  If  thou  likest  not  to  imitate  me,  oppose  not." 
The  other  answered,  he  would  cleave  to  him,  to  partake  so 
glorious  a  reward,  so  glorious  a  service.  Thus  both  being 

A.  V.  1—23 


354  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

now  Thine,  were  building  the  tower  at  the  necessary  cost,  the 
forsaking  all  that  they  had,  and  following  Thee.  Then 
Pontitiauus  and  the  other  with  him,  that  had  walked  in 
other  parts  of  the  garden,  came  in  search  of  them  to  the 
same  place;  and  finding  them,  reminded  them  to  return,  for 
the  day  was  now  far  spent.  But  they  relating  their  resolu- 
tion and  purpose,  and  how  that  will  was  begun,  and  settled 
in  them,  begged  them,  if  they  would  not  join,  not  to  molest 
them.  But  the  others,  though  nothing  altered  from  their 
former  selves,  did  yet  bewail  themselves,  (as  he  affirmed,) 
and  piously  congratulated  them,  recommending  themselves 
to  their  prayers;  and  so,  with  hearts  lingering  on  the  earth, 
went  away  to  the  palace.  But  the  other  two,  fixing  their 
heart  on  heaven,  remained  in  the  cottage.  And  both  had  af- 
fianced brides,  who  when  they  heard  hereof,  also  dedicated 
their  virginity  unto  God. 

Such  was  the  story  of  Pontitianus;  but  Thou,  0  Lord, 
while  he  was  speaking,  didst  turn  me  round  towards  myself, 
taking  me  from  behind  my  back,  where  I  had  placed  me,  un- 
willing to  observe  myself;  and  setting  me  before  my  face,  that 
I  might  see  how  foul  I  was,  how  crooked  and  defiled,  be- 
spotted  and  ulcerous.  And  I  beheld  and  stood  aghast;  and 
whither  to  flee  from  myself  I  found  not.  And  if  I  sought 
to  turn  mine  eye  from  off  myself,  he  went  on  with  his  re- 
lation, and  Thou  again  didst  set  me  over  against  myself,  and 
thrustedst  me  before  my  eyes,  that  I  might  find  out  mine 
iniquity,  and  hate  it.  I  had  known  it,  but  made  as  though 
I  saw  it  not,  winked  at  it,  and  forgot  it. 

But  now,  the  more  ardently  I  loved  those,  whose  health- 
ful affections  I  heard  of,  that  they  had  resigned  themselves 
wholly  to  Thee  to  be  cured,  the  more  did  I  abhor  myself, 
when  compared  with  them.  For  many  of  my  years  (some 
twelve)  had  now  run  out  with  me  since  ray  nineteenth,  when, 
upon  the  reading  of  Cicero's  Hortensius,  I  was  stirred  to 
an  earnest  love  of  wisdom ;  and  still  I  was  deferring  to  reject 
mere  earthly  felicity,  and  give  myself  to  search  out  that, 
whereof  not  the  finding  only,  but  the  very  search,  was  to  be 
preferred  to  the  treasures  and  kingdoms  of  the  world, 
though  already  found,  and  to  the  pleasures  of  the  body, 
though  spread  around  me  at  my  will.  But  I  wretched,  most 


SAINT  AUGUSTINE  355 

wretched,  in  the  very  commencement  of  my  early  youth, 
had  begged  chastity  of  Thee,  and  said,  "Give  me  chastity  and 
continency,  only  not  yet."  For  I  feared  lest  Thou  shouldest 
hear  me  soon,  and  soon  cure  me  of  the  disease  of  con- 
cupiscence, which  I  wished  to  have  satisfied,  rather  than  ex- 
tinguished. And  I  had  wandered  through  crooked  ways  in 
a  sacrilegious  superstition,  not  indeed  assured  thereof,  but 
as  preferring  it  to  the  others  which  I  did  not  seek  religiously, 
but  opposed  maliciously. 

And  I  had  thought,  that  I  therefore  deferred  from  day 
to  day  to  reject  the  hopes  of  this  world,  and  follow  Thee 
only,  because  there  did  not  appear  aught  certain,  whither 
to  direct  my  course.  And  now  was  the  day  come  wherein  I 
was  to  be  laid  bare  to  myself,  and  my  conscience  was  to  up- 
braid me.  ""Where  art  thou  now,  my  tongue?  Thou  saidst, 
that  for  an  uncertain  truth  thou  likedst  not  to  cast  off  the 
baggage  of  vanity;  now,  it  is  certain,  and  yet  that  burthen 
still  oppresseth  thee,  while  they  who  neither  have  so  worn 
themselves  out  with  seeking  it,  nor  for  ten  years  and  more 
have  been  thinking  thereon,  have  had  their  shoulders  light- 
ened, and  received  wings  to  fly  away."  Thus  was  I  gnawed 
within,  and  exceedingly  confounded  with  an  horrible  shame, 
while  Pontitianus  was  so  speaking.  And  he  having  brought 
to  a  close  his  tale  and  the  business  he  came  for,  went  his 
way;  and  I  unto  myself.  What  said  I  not  against  myself? 
with  what  scourges  of  condemnation  lashed  I  not  my  soul, 
that  it  might  follow  me,  striving  to  go  after  Thee!  Yet  it 
drew  back ;  refused,  but  excused  not  itself.  All  arguments 
were  spent  and  confuted;  there  remained  a  mute  shrinking; 
and  she  feared,  as  she  would  death,  to  be  restrained  from 
the  flux  of  that  custom,  whereby  she  was  wasting  to  death. 

Then  in  this  great  contention  of  my  inward  dwelling, 
which  I  had  strongly  raised  against  my  soul,  in  the  chamber 
of  my  heart,  troubled  in  mind  and  countenance,  I  turned 
upon  Alypius.  "What  ails  us?"  I  exclaim:  "what  is  it? 
what  heardest  thou  ?  The  unlearned  start  up  and  take  heaven 
by  force,  and  we  with  our  learning,  and  without  heart,  lo, 
where  we  wallow  in  flesh  and  blood !  Are  we  ashamed  to  fol- 
low, because  others  are  gone  before,  and  not  ashamed  not 
even  to  follow?"  Some  such  words  I  uttered,  and  my  fever 


356  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

of  mind  tore  me  away  from  him,  while  he,  gazing  on  me  in 
astonishment,  kept  silence.  For  it  was  not  my  wonted  tone; 
and  my  forehead,  cheeks,  eyes,  color,  tone  of  voice,  spake 
my  mind  more  than  the  words  I  uttered.  A  little  garden 
there  was  to  our  lodging,  which  we  had  the  use  of,  as  of 
the  whole  house;  for  the  master  of  the  house,  our  host,  was 
not  living  there.  Thither  had  the  tumult  of  my  breast  hur- 
ried me,  where  no  man  might  hinder  the  hot  contention 
wherein  I  had  engaged  with  myself,  until  it  should  end  as 
Thou  knewest,  I  knew  not.  Only  I  was  healthfully  distracted 
and  dying,  to  live ;  knowing  what  evil  thing  I  was,  and  not 
knowing  what  good  thing  I  was  shortly  to  become.  I  retired 
then  into  the  garden,  and  Alypius,  on  my  steps.  For  his 
presence  did  not  lessen  my  privacy ;  or  how  could  he  forsake 
me  so  disturbed  ?  We  sate  down  as  far  removed  as  might  be 
from  the  house.  I  was  troubled  in  spirit,  most  vehemently 
indignant  that  I  entered  not  into  Thy  will  and  covenant,  O 
my  God,  which  all  my  bones  cried  out  unto  me  to  enter, 
and  praised  it  to  the  skies.  And  therein  we  enter  not  by 
ships,  or  chariots,  or  feet,  no,  move  not  so  far  as  I  had  come 
from  the  house  to  that  place  where  we  were  sitting.  For, 
not  to  go  only,  but  to  go  in  thither  was  nothing  else  but  to 
will  to  go,  but  to  will  resolutely  and  thoroughly ;  not  to  turn 
and  toss,  this  way  and  that,  a  maimed  and  half-divided 
will,  struggling,  with  one  part  sinking  as  another  rose. 

Lastly,  in  the  very  fever  of  my  irresoluteness,  I  made  with 
my  body  many  such  motions  as  men  sometimes  would,  but 
cannot,  if  either  they  have  not  the  limbs,  or  these  be  bound 
with  bands,  weakened  with  infirmity,  or  any  other  way 
hindered.  Thus,  if  I  tore  my  hair,  beat  my  forehead,  if 
locking  my  fingers  I  clasped  my  knee;  I  willed,  I  did  it. 
But  I  might  have  willed,  and  not  done  it,  if  the  power  of 
motion  in  my  limbs  had  not  obeyed.  So  many  things  then 
I  did,  when  "to  will"  was  not  in  itself  "to  be  able;"  and  I 
did  not  what  both  I  longed  incomparably  more  to  do,  and 
which  soon  after,  when  I  should  will,  I  should  be  able  to 
do;  because  soon  after,  when  I  should  will,  I  should  will 
thoroughly.  For  in  these  things  the  ability  was  one  with  the 
will,  and  to  will  was  to  do;  and  yet  was  it  not  done:  and 
more  easily  did  my  body  obey  the  weakest  willing  of  my  soul, 


SAINT  AUGUSTINE  357 

in  moving  its  limbs  at  its  nod,  than  the  soul  obeyed  itself 
to  accomplish  in  the  will  alone  this  its  momentous  will. 

Thus  soul-sick  was  I,  and  tormented,  accusing  myself 
much  more  severely  than  my  wont,  rolling  and  turning  me  in 
my  chain,  till  that  were  wholly  broken,  whereby  I  now  was 
but  just,  but  still  was,  held.  And  Thou,  O  Lord,  pressedst 
upon  me  in  my  inward  parts  by  a  severe  mercy,  redoubling 
the  lashes  of  fear  and  shame,  lest  I  should  again  give  way, 
and  not  bursting  that  same  slight  remaining  tie,  it  should 
recover  strength,  and  bind  me  the  faster.  For  I  said  within 
myself,  "Be  it  done  now,  be  it  done  now."  And  as  I  spake, 
I  all  but  enacted  it.  I  all  but  did  it,  and  did  it  not:  yet 
sunk  not  back  to  my  former  state,  but  kept  my  stand  hard 
by,  and  took  breath.  And  I  essayed  again,  and  wanted  some- 
what less  of  it,  and  somewhat  less,  and  all  but  touched  and 
laid  hold  of  it;  and  yet  came  not  at  it,  nor  touched,  nor 
laid  hold  of  it:  hesitating  to  die  to  death  and  to  live  to  life: 
and  the  worse  whereto  I  was  inured,  prevailed  more  with 
me  than  the  better,  whereto  I  was  unused :  and  the  very  mo- 
ment wherein  I  was  to  become  other  than  I  was,  the  nearer 
it  approached  me,  the  greater  horror  did  it  strike  into  me; 
yet  did  it  not  strike  me  back,  nor  turned  me  away,  but  held 
me  in  suspense. 

The  very  toys  of  toys,  and  vanities  of  vanities,  my  ancient 
mistresses,  still  held  me;  they  plucked  my  fleshly  garment, 
and  whispered  softly,  "Dost  thou  cast  us  off?  and  from  that 
moment  shall  we  no  more  be  with  thee  for  ever?  and  from 
that  moment  shall  not  this  or  that  be  lawful  for  thee  for 
ever?"  And  what  was  it  which  they  suggested  in  that  I 
said,  "this  or  that,"  what  did  they  suggest,  O  my  God?  Let 
Thy  mercy  turn  it  away  from  the  soul  of  Thy  servant.  What 
defilements  did  they  suggest !  what  shame !  And  now  I  much 
less  than  half  heard  them,  and  not  openly  shewing  them- 
selves and  contradicting  me,  but  muttering  as  it  were  be- 
hind my  back,  and  privily  plucking  me,  as  I  was  departing, 
but  to  look  back  on  them.  Yet  they  did  retard  me,  so  that 
I  hesitated  to  burst  and  shake  myself  free  from  them,  and 
to  spring  over  whither  I  was  called ;  a  violent  habit  saying  to 
me,  "Thinkest  thou,  thou  canst  live  without  them?" 

But  now  it  spake  very  faintly.    For  on  that  side  whither 


358  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

I  had  set  my  face,  and  whither  I  trembled  to  go,  there  ap- 
peared unto  me  the  chaste  dignity  of  Continency,  serene,  yet 
not  relaxedly  gay,  honestly  alluring  me  to  come,  and  doubt 
not ;  and  stretching  forth  to  receive  and  embrace  me,  her 
holy  hands  full  of  multitudes  of  good  examples.  There 
were  so  many  young  men  and  maidens  here,  a  multitude  of 
youth  and  every  age,  grave  widows  and  aged  virgins;  and 
Continence  herself  in  all,  not  barren,  but  a  fruitful  mother 
of  children  of  joys,  by  Thee  her  Husband,  O  Lord.  And  she 
smiled  on  me  with  a  persuasive  mockery,  as  would  she  say, 
"Canst  not  thou  what  these  youths,  what  these  maidens  can? 
or  can  they  either  in  themselves,  and  not  rather  in  the  Lord 
their  God?  The  Lord  their  God  gave  me  unto  them.  Why 
standest  thou  in  thyself,  and  so  standest  not?  Cast  thyself 
upon  Him,  fear  not  He  will  not  withdraw  Himself  that  thou 
shouldest  fall;  cast  thyself  fearlessly  upon  Him,  He  will  re- 
ceive, and  will  heal  thee."  And  I  blushed  exceedingly,  for 
that  I  yet  heard  the  muttering  of  those  toys,  and  hung  in 
suspense.  And  she  again  seemed  to  say,  "Stop  thine  ears 
against  those  thy  unclean  members  on  the  earth,  that  they 
may  be  mortified.  They  tell  thee  of  delights,  but  not  as  doth 
the  law  of  the  Lord  thy  God."  This  controversy  in  my  heart 
was  self  against  self  only.  But  Alypius  sitting  close  by  my 
side,  in  silence  waited  the  issue  of  my  unwonted  emotion. 

But  when  a  deep  consideration  had  from  the  secret  bottom 
of  my  soul  drawn  together  and  heaped  up  all  my  misery  in 
the  sight  of  my  heart ;  there  arose  a  mighty  storm,  bringing 
a  mighty  shower  of  tears.  Which  that  I  might  pour  forth 
wholly,  in  its  natural  expressions,  I  rose  from  Alypius: 
solitude  was  suggested  to  me  as  fitter  for  the  business  of 
weeping;  so  I  retired  so  far  that  even  his  presence  could  not 
be  a  burthen  to  me.  Thus  was  it  then  with  me,  and  he 
perceived  something  of  it ;  for  something  I  suppose  I  had 
spoken,  wherein  the  tones  of  my  voice  appeared  choked  with 
weeping,  and  so  had  risen  up.  He  then  remained  where 
we  were  sitting,  most  extremely  astonished.  I  cast  myself 
down  I  know  not  how,  under  a  certain  fig-tree,  giving  full 
vent  to  my  tears;  and  the  floods  of  mine  eyes  gushed  out,  an 
acceptable  sacrifice  to  Thee.  And,  not  indeed  in  these  words, 
yet  to  this  purpose,  spake  I  much  unto  Thee:  And  Thou, 


SAINT  AUGUSTINE  859 

0  Lord,  how  long?  how  long,  Lord,  wilt  Thou  be  angry, 
for  ever?     Remember  not  our  former  iniquities,  for  I  felt 
that  I  was  held  by  them.    I  sent  up  these  sorrowful  words; 
How  long?  how  long,  "to-morrow,  and  to-morrow?"     Why 
not  now?  why  not  is  there  this  hour  an  end  to  my  unclean- 
ness? 

So  was  I  speaking,  and  weeping  in  the  most  bitter  contri- 
tion of  my  heart,  when,  lo !  I  heard  from  a  neighboring  house 
a  voice,  as  of  boy  or  girl,  I  know  not,  chanting,  and  oft  re- 
peating, "Take  up  and  read;  Take  up  and  read."  Instantly, 
my  countenance  altered,  I  began  to  think  most  intently, 
whether  children  were  wont  in  any  kind  of  play  to  sing 
such  words:  nor  could  I  remember  ever  to  have  heard  the 
like.  So  checking  the  torrent  of  my  tears,  I  arose;  inter- 
preting it  to  be  no  other  than  a  command  from  God,  to  open 
the  book,  and  read  the  first  chapter  I  should  find.  For  I 
had  heard  of  Antony,  that  coming  in  during  the  reading  of 
the  Gospel,  he  received  the  admonition,  as  if  what  was  being 
read,  was  spoken  to  him;  Go,  sell  all  that  thou  hast,  and 
give  to  the  poor,  and  thou  shalt  have  treasure  in  heaven,  and 
come  and  follow  me.  And  by  such  oracle  he  was  forthwith 
converted  unto  Thee.  Eagerly  then  I  returned  to  the  place 
Avhere  Alypius  was  sitting;  for  there  had  I  laid  the  volume 
of  the  Apostle,  when  I  arose  thence.  I  seized,  opened,  and 
in  silence  read  that  section,  on  which  my  eyes  first  fell :  Not 
in  rioting  and  drunkenness,  not  in  chambering  and  wanton- 
ness, not  in  strife  and  envying:  but  put  ye  on  the  Lord  Jesus 
Christ,  and  make  not  provision  for  the  flesh,  in  concupiscence. 
No  further  would  I  read ;  nor  needed  I :  for  instantly  at  the 
end  of  this  sentence,  by  a  light  as  it  were  of  serenity  infused 
into  my  heart,  all  the  darkness  of  doubt  vanished  away. 

Then  putting  my  finger  between,  or  some  other  mark,  I 
shut  the  volume,  and  with  a  calmed  countenance  made  it 
known  to  Alypius.  And  what  was  wrought  in  him,  which 

1  knew  not,  he  thus  shewed  me.    He  asked  to  see  what  I  had 
read :  I  shewed  him ;  and  he  looked  even  further  than  I  had 
read,  and  I  knew  not  what  followed.     This  followed,  him 
that  is  weak  in  the  faith,  receive;  which  he  applied  to  him- 
self, and  disclosed  to  me.     And  by  this  admonition  was  he 
strengthened;  and  by  a  good  resolution  and  purpose,  and 


360  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

most  corresponding  to  his  character,  wherein  he  did  always 
very  far  differ  from  me,  for  the  better,  without  any  turbulent 
delay  he  joined  me.  Thence  we  go  into  my  mother;  we  tell 
her;  she  rejoiceth:  we  relate  in  order  how  it  took  place;  she 
leaps  for  joy,  and  triumpheth,  and  blesseth  Thee,  Who  art 
able  to  do  above  that  which  we  ask  or  think;  for  she  per- 
ceived that  Thou  hadst  given  her  more  for  me,  than  she  was 
wont  to  beg  by  her  pitiful  and  most  sorrowful  groanings. 
For  Thou  convertedst  me  unto  Thyself,  so  that  I  sought 
neither  wife,  nor  any  hope  of  this  world,  standing  in  that 
rule  of  faith,  where  Thou  hadst  shewed  me  unto  her  in  a 
vision,  so  many  years  before.  And  Thou  didst  convert  her 
mourning  into  joy,  much  more  plentiful  than  she  had  desired, 
and  in  a  much  more  precious  and  purer  way  than  she  erst  re- 
quired, by  having  grandchildren  of  my  body. 

BOOK  IX 

O  Lord,  I  am  Thy  servant;  I  am  Thy  servant,  and  the  son 
of  Thy  handmaid:  Thou  hast  broken  my  bonds  in  sunder.  I 
will  offer  to  Thee  the  sacrifice  of  praise.  Let  my  heart  and 
my  tongue  praise  Thee;  yea  let  all  my  bones  say,  0  Lord, 
who  is  like  unto  Thee?  Let  them  say,  and  answer  Thou  me, 
and  say  unto  my  soul,  I  am  thy  salvation.  Who  am  I,  and 
what  am  I  ?  What  evil  have  not  been  either  my  deeds,  or 
if  not  my  deeds,  my  words,  or  if  not  my  words,  my  will  ? 
But  Thou,  O  Lord,  art  good  and  merciful,  and  Thy  right 
hand  had  respect  unto  the  depth  of  my  death,  and  from  the 
bottom  of  my  heart  emptied  that  abyss  of  corruption.  And 
this  Thy  whole  gift  was,  to  nill  what  I  willed,  and  to  will 
what  Thou  willedst.  But  where  through  all  those  years,  and 
out  of  what  low  and  deep  recess  was  my  free-will  called 
forth  in  a  moment,  whereby  to  submit  my  neck  to  Thy  easy 
itokr,  and  my  shoulders  unto  Thy  light  burthen,  0  Christ 
Jesus,  my  Helper  and  my  Redeemer?  How  sweet  did  it  at 
once  become  to  me,  to  want  the  sweetness  of  those  toys!  and 
what  I  feared  to  be  parted  from,  was  now  a  joy  to  part  with. 
For  Thou  didst  cast  them  forth  from  me,  Thou  true  and  high- 
est sweetness.  Thou  castest  them  forth,  and  for  them  en- 
teredst  in  Thyself,  sweeter  than  all  pleasure,  though  not,  to 
flesh  and  blood ;  brighter  than  all  light,  but  more  hidden  than 


SAINT  AUGUSTINE  361 

all  depths,  higher  than  all  honor,  but  not  to  the  high  in  their 
own  conceits.  Now  was  my  soul  free  from  the  biting  cares 
of  canvassing  and  getting,  and  weltering  in  filth,  and  scratch- 
ing off  the  itch  of  lust.  And  my  infant  tongue  spake  freely 
to  Thee,  my  brightness,  and  my  riches,  and  my  health,  the 
Lord  my  God. 

And  I  resolved  in  Thy  sight,  not  tumultuously  to  tear, 
but  gently  to  withdraw,  the  service  of  my  tongue  from  the 
marts  of  lip-labor:  that  the  young,  no  students  in  Thy  law, 
nor  in  Thy  peace,  but  in  lying  dotages  and  law-skirmishes, 
should  no  longer  buy  at  my  mouth  arms  for  their  madness. 
And  very  seasonably,  it  now  wanted  but  very  few  days  unto 
the  Vacation  of  the  Vintage,  and  I  resolved  to  endure  them, 
then  in  a  regular  way  to  take  my  leave,  and  having  been  pur- 
chased by  Thee,  no  more  to  return  for  sale.  Our  purpose 
then  was  known  to  Thee;  but  to  men,  other  than  our  own 
friends,  was  it  not  known.  For  we'  had  agreed  among  our- 
selves not  to  let  it  out  abroad  to  any:  although  to  us,  now 
ascending  from  the  valley  of  tears,  and  singing  that  song 
of  degrees,  Thou  hadst  given  sharp  arrows,  and  destroying 
coals  against  the  subtile  tongue,  which  as  though  advising  for 
us,  would  thwart,  and  would  out  of  love  devour  us,  as  it  doth 
its  meat. 

Thou  hadst  pierced  our  hearts  with  Thy  charity,  and  we 
carried  Thy  words  as  it  were  fixed  in  our  entrails:  and  the 
examples  of  Thy  servants,  whom  for  black  Thou  hadst  made 
bright,  and  for  dead,  alive,  being  piled  together  in  the  re- 
ceptacle of  our  thoughts,  kindled  and  burned  up  that  our 
heavy  torpor,  that  we  should  not  sink  down  to  the  abyss; 
and  they  fired  us  so  vehemently,  that  all  the  blasts  of  subtle 
tongues  from  gainsayers  might  only  inflame  us  the  more 
fiercely,  not  extinguish  us.  Nevertheless,  because  for  Thy 
Name's  sake  which  Thou  hast  hallowed  throughout  the  earth, 
this  our  vow  and  purpose  might  also  find  some  to  commend 
it,  it  seemed  like  ostentation  not  to  wait  for  the  vacation  now 
so  near,  but  to  quit  beforehand  a  public  profession,  which 
was  before  the  eyes  of  all ;  so  that  all  looking  on  this  act  of 
mine,  and  observing  how  near  was  the  time  of  vintage  which 
I  wished  to  anticipate,  would  talk  much  of  me,  as  if  I  had 
desired  to  appear  some  great  one.  And  "what  end  had  it 


362 

served   me,   that   people   should   repute   and   dispute   upon 
my  purpose,  and  that  by  them  our  good  should  be  evil  spoken 

off 

Moreover,  it  had  at  first  troubled  me,  that  in  this  very 
summer  my  lungs  began  to  give  way,  amid  too  great  literary 
labor,  and  to  breathe  deeply  with  difficulty,  and  by  the  pain 
in  my  chest  to  shew  that  they  were  injured,  and  to  refuse  any 
full  or  lengthened  speaking;  this  had  troubled  me,  for  it  al- 
most constrained  me  of  necessity,  to  lay  down  that  burthen 
of  teaching,  or,  if  I  could  be  cured  and  recover,  at  least  to 
intermit  it.  But  when  the  full  wish  for  leisure,  that  I  might 
see  how  that  Thou,  art  the  Lord,  arose,  and  was  fixed,  in 
me;  my  God,  Thou  knowest,  I  began  even  to  rejoice  that  I 
had  this  secondary,  and  that  no  feigned,  excuse,  which  might 
something  moderate  the  offense  taken  by  those,  who  for  their 
sons'  sake,  wished  me  never  to  have  the  freedom  of  Thy  sons. 
Full  then  of  such  joy,  I  endured  till  that  interval  of  time 
were  run ;  it  may  have  been  some  twenty  days,  yet  they  were 
endured  manfully ;  endured,  for  the  covetousness  which  afore- 
time bore  a  part  of  this  heavy  business,  had  left  me,  and  I 
remained  alone,  and  had  been  overwhelmed,  had  not  patience 
taken  its  place.  Perchance,  some  of  Thy  servants,  my 
brethren,  may  say,  that  I  sinned  in  this,  that  with  a  heart 
fully  set  on  Thy  service,  I  suffered  myself  to  sit  even  one 
hour  in  the  chair  of  lies.  Nor  would  I  be  contentious.  But 
hast  not  Thou,  0  most  merciful  Lord,  pardoned  and  remitted 
this  sin  also,  with  my  other  most  horrible  and  deadly  sins, 
in  the  holy  water? 

Now  was  the  day  come,  wherein  I  was  indeed  to  be  freed 
of  my  Rhetoric  Professorship,  whereof  in  thought  I  was 
already  freed.  And  it  was  done.  Thou  didst  rescue  my 
tongue,  whence  Thou  hadst  before  rescued  my  heart.  And  I 
blessed  Thee,  rejoicing;  retiring  with  all  mine  to  the  villa. 
What  I  there  did  in  writing,  which  was  now  enlisted  in  Thy 
service,  though  still,  in  this  breathing-time  as  it  were,  panting 
from  the  school  of  pride,  my  books  may  witness,  as  well 
what  I  debated  with  others,  as  what  with  myself  alone,  before 
Thee:  what  with  Nebridius,  who  was  absent,  my  Epistles 
bear  witness.  And  when  shall  I  have  time  to  rehearse  all  Thy 
great  benefits  towards  us  at  that  time,  especially  when  hasting 


SAINT  AUGUSTINE  363 

on  to  yet  greater  mercies?  For  my  remembrance  recalls 
me,  and  pleasant  is  it  to  me,  0  Lord,  to  confess  to  Thee,  by 
what  inward  goads  Thou  tamedst  me ;  and  how  Thou  hast 
evened  me,  lowering  the  mountains  and  hills  of  my  high 
imaginations,  straightening  my  crookedness,  and  smoothing 
my  rough  ways;  and  how  Thou  also  subduedst  the  brother  of 
my  heart,  Alypius,  unto  the  Name  of  Thy  Only  Begotten,  our 
Lord  and  Savior  Jesus  Christ,  which  he  would  not  at  first 
vouchsafe  to  have  inserted  in  our  writings.  For  rather  would 
he  have  them  savor  of  the  lofty  cedars  of  the  Schools,  which 
the  Lord  hath  now  broken  down,  than  of  the  wholesome  herbs 
of  the  Church,  the  antidote  against  serpents. 

Oh  in  what  accents  spake  I  unto  Thee,  my  God,  when  I 
read  the  Psalms  of  David,  those  faithful  songs,  and  sounds 
of  devotion,  which  allow  of  no  swelling  spirit,  as  yet  a 
Catechumen,  and  a  novice  in  Thy  real  love,  resting  in  that 
villa,  with  Alypius,  a  Catechumen,  my  mother  cleaving  to  us, 
in  female  garb  with  masculine  faith,  with  the  tranquillity 
of  age,  motherly  love,  Christian  piety.  Oh,  what  accents  did 
I  utter  unto  Thee  in  those  Psalms,  and  how  was  I  by  them 
kindled  towards  Thee,  and  on  fire  to  rehearse  them,  if  pos- 
sible, through  the  whole  world,  against  the  pride  of  man- 
kind. And  yet  they  are  sung  through  the  whole  world,  nor 
can  any  hide  himself  from  Thy  heat.  With  what  vehement 
and  bitter  sorrow  was  I  angered  at  the  Manichees !  and  again 
I  pitied  them,  for  that  they  knew  not  those  Sacraments,  those 
medicines,  and  were  mad  against  the  antidote,  which  might 
have  recovered  them  of  their  madness.  How  I  would  they 
had  then  been  somewhere  near  me,  and  without  my  knowing 
that  they  were  there,  could  have  beheld  my  countenance,  and 
heard  my  words,  when  I  read  the  fourth  Psalm  in  that  time 
of  my  rest,  and  how  that  Psalm  wrought  upon  me,  When  1 
called,  the  God  of  my  righteousness  heard  me;  in  tribulation 
Thou  enlargedst  me.  Have  mercy  upon  me,  0  Lord,  and  hear 
my  prayer.  Would  that  what  I  uttered  on  these  words,  they 
could  hear,  without  my  knowing  whether  they  heard,  lest 
they  should  think  I  spake  it  for  their  sakes!  Because  in 
truth  neither  should  I  speak  the  same  things,  nor  in  the 
same  way,  if  I  perceived  that  they  heard  and  saw  me,*  nor 
if  I  spake  them  would  they  so  receive  them,  as  when  I  spake 


364-  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

by  and  for  myself  before  Thee,  out  of  the  natural  feelings 
of  my  soul. 

When  shall  I  recall  all  which  passed  in  those  holy-days? 
Yet  neither  have  I  forgotten,  nor  will  I  pass  over  the  severity 
of  Thy  scourge,  and  the  wonderful  swiftness  of  Thy  mercy. 
Thou  didst  then  torment  me  with  pain  in  my  teeth;  which 
when  it  had  come  to  such  height,  that  I  could  not  speak,  it 
came  into  my  heart  to  desire  all  my  friends  present  to  pray 
for  me  to  Thee,  the  God  of  all  manner  of  health.  And  this 
I  wrote  on  wax,  and  gave  it  them  to  read.  Presently  so 
soon  as  with  humble  devotion  we  had  bowed  our  knees,  that 
pain  went  away.  But  what  pain?  or  how  went  it  away? 
I  was  affrighted,  O  my  Lord,  my  God;  for  from  infancy  I 
had  never  experienced  the  like.  And  the  power  of  Thy  Nod 
was  deeply  conveyed  to  me,  and  rejoicing  in  faith,  I  praised 
Thy  Name.  And  that  faith  suffered  me  not  to  be  at  ease 
about  my  past  sins,  which  were  not  yet  forgiven  me  by  Thy 
baptism. 

The  vintage-vacation  ended,  I  gave  notice  to  the  Milanese 
to  provide  their  scholars  with  another  master  to  sell  words 
to  them ;  for  that  I  had  both  made  choice  to  serve  Thee,  and 
through  my  difficulty  of  breathing  and  pain  in  my  chest,  was 
not  equal  to  the  Professorship.  And  by  letters  I  signified  to 
Thy  Prelate,  the  holy  man  Ambrose,  my  former  errors  and 
present  desires,  begging  his  advice  what  of  Thy  Scriptures 
I  had  best  read,  to  become  readier  and  fitter  for  receiving  so 
great  grace.  He  recommended  Isaiah  the  Prophet:  I  believe, 
because  he  above  the  rest  is  a  more  clear  foreshewer  of  the 
Gospel  and  of  the  calling  of  the  Gentiles.  But  I,  not  under- 
standing the  first  lesson  in  him,  and  imagining  the  whole  to 
be  like  it,  laid  it  by,  to  be  resumed  when  better  practiced  in 
our  Lord's  own  words. 

Thence,  when  the  time  was  come,  wherein  I  was  to  give  in 
my  name,1  we  left  the  country  and  returned  to  Milan.  It 
pleased  Alypius  also  to  be  with  me  born  again  in  Thee, 
being  already  clothed  with  the  humility  befitting  Thy  Sacra- 
ments ;  and  a  most  valiant  tamer  of  the  body,  so  as,  with  un- 

1  They  were  baptized  at  Easter,  and  gave  up  their  names  before  the 
second  Sunday  in  Lent:  the  rest  of  which,  they  were  to  spend  in  fasting, 
humility,  prayer,  and  being  examined  in  the  scrutinies. 


SAINT  AUGUSTINE  365 

wonted  venture,  to  wear  the  frozen  ground  of  Italy  with  his 
bare  feet.  We  joined  with  us  the  boy  Adeodatus,  born  after 
the  flesh,  of  my  sin.  Excellently  hadst  Thou  made  him.  He 
was  not  quite  fifteen,  and  in  wit  surpassed  many  grave  and 
learned  men.  I  confess  unto  Thee  Thy  gifts,  O  Lord  my 
God,  Creator  of  all,  and  abundantly  able  to  reform  our  de- 
formities: for  I  had  no  part  in  that  boy,  but  the  sin.  For 
that  we  brought  him  up  in  Thy  discipline,  it  was  Thou,  none 
else,  had  inspired  us  with  it.  I  confess  unto  Thee  Thy 
gifts.  There  is  a  book  of  ours  entitled  The  Master;  it  is  a 
dialogue  between  him  and  me.  Thou  knowest,  that  all  there 
ascribed  to  the  person  conversing  with  me,  were  his  ideas, 
in  his  sixteenth  year.  Much  besides,  and  yet  more  admirable, 
I  found  in  him.  That  talent  struck  awe  into  me.  And  who 
but  Thou  could  be  the  workmaster  of  such  wonders?  Soon 
didst  Thou  take  his  life  from  the  earth :  and  I  now  remember 
him  without  anxiety,  fearing  nothing  for  his  childhood  or 
youth,  or  his  whole  self.  Him  we  joined  with  us,  our  con- 
temporary in  grace,  to  be  brought  up  in  Thy  discipline ;  and 
we  were  baptized,  and  anxiety  for  our  past  life  vanished 
from  us.  Nor  was  I  sated  in  those  days  with  the  wondrous 
sweetness  of  considering  the  depth  of  Thy  counsels  concern- 
ing the  salvation  of  mankind.  How  did  I  weep,  in  Thy 
Hymns  and  Canticles,  touched  to  the  quick  by  the  voices  of 
Thy  sweet-attuned  Church!  The  voices  flowed  into  mine 
ears,  and  the  Truth  distilled  into  my  heart,  whence  the  af- 
fections of  my  devotion  overflowed,  and  tears  ran  down,  and 
happy  was  I  therein. 

Not  long  had  the  Church  of  Milan  begun  to  use  this  kind 
of  consolation  and  exhortation,  the  brethren  zealously  joining 
with  harmony  of  voice  and  hearts.  For  it  was  a  year,  or  not 
much  more,  that  Justina,  mother  to  the  Emperor  Valentinian, 
a  child,  persecuted  Thy  servant  Ambrose,  in  favor  of  her 
heresy,  to  which  she  was  seduced  by  the  Arians.  The  devout 
people  kept  watch  in  the  Church,  ready  to  die  with  their 
Bishop  Thy  servant.  There  my  mother  Thy  handmaid,  bear- 
ing a  chief  part  of  those  anxieties  and  watchings,  lived  for 
prayer.  "We,  yet  unwarmed  by  the  heat  of  Thy  Spirit,  still 
were  stirred  up  by  the  sight  of  the  amazed  and  disquieted 
city.  Then  it  was  first  instituted  that  after  the  manner  a* 


366  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

the  Eastern  Churches,  Hymns  and  Psalms  should  be  sung, 
lest  the  people  should  wax  faint  through  the  tediousness  of 
sorrow:  and  from  that  day  to  this  the  custom  is  retained, 
divers,  yea,  almost  all  Thy  congregations,  throughout  other 
parts  of  the  world,  following  herein. 

Then  didst  Thou  by  a  vision  discover  to  Thy  forenamed 
Bishop,  where  the  bodies  of  Gervasius  and  Protasius  the 
martyrs  lay  hid,  (whom  Thou  hadst  in  Thy  secret  treasury 
stored  uncorrupted  so  many  years,)  whence  Thou  mightest 
seasonably  produce  them  to  repress  the  fury  of  a  woman, 
but  an  Empress.  For  when  they  were  discovered  and  dug 
up,  and  with  due  honor  translated  to  the  Ambrosian  Basilica, 
not  only  they  who  were  vexed  with  unclean  spirits  (the  devils 
confessing  themselves)  were  cured,  but  a  certain  man,  who 
had  for  many  years  been  blind,  a  citizen,  and  well  known 
to  the  city,  asking  and  hearing  the  reason  of  the  people's  con- 
fused joy,  sprang  forth,  desiring  his  guide  to  lead  him 
thither.  Led  thither,  he  begged  to  be  allowed  to  touch  with 
his  handkerchief  the  bier  of  Thy  saints,  whose  death  is 
precious  in  Thy  sight.  Which  when  he  had  done,  and  put  to 
his  eyes,  they  were  forthwith  opened.  Thence  did  the  fame 
spread,  thence  Thy  praises  glowed,  shone;  thence  the  mind 
of  that  enemy,  though  not  turned  to  the  soundness  of  believ- 
ing, was  yet  turned  back  from  her  fury  of  persecuting. 
Thanks  to  Thee,  0  my  God.  Whence  and  whither  hast  Thou 
thus  led  my  remembrance,  that  I  should  confess  these  things 
also  unto  Thee  ?  which  great  though  they  be,  I  had  passed  by 
in  forgetfulness.  And  yet  then,  when  the  odor  of  Thy 
ointments  was  so  fragrant,  did  we  not  run  after  Thee, 
Therefore  did  I  more  weep  among  the  singing  of  Thy  Hymns, 
formerly  sighing  after  Thee,  and  at  length  breathing  in 
Thee,  as  far  as  the  breath  may  enter  into  this  our  house  of 
grass. 

Thou  that  makest  men  to  dwell  of  one  mind  in  one  house, 
didst  join  with  us  Euodius  also,  a  young  man  of  our  own  city. 
Who  being  an  officer  of  Court,  was  before  us  converted  to 
Thee  and  baptized :  and  quitting  his  secular  warfare,  girded 
himself  to  Thine.  We  were  together,  about  to  dwell  to- 
gether in  our  devout  purpose.  We  sought  where  we  might 
serve  Thee  most  usefully,  and  were  together  returning  to 


SAINT  AUGUSTINE  367 

Africa:  whitherward  being  as  far  as  Ostia,  my  mother  de- 
parted this  life.  Much  I  omit,  as  hastening  much. 

But  now,  with  a  heart  cured  of  that  wound,  wherein  it 
might  seem  blameworthy  for  an  earthly  feeling,  I  pour  out 
unto  Thee,  our  God,  in  behalf  of  that  Thy  handmaid,  a  far 
different  kind  of  tears,  flowing  from  a  spirit  shaken  by  the 
thoughts  of  the  dangers  of  every  soul  that  dieth  in  Adam. 
And  although  she  having  been  quickened  in  Christ,  even 
before  her  release  from  the  flesh,  had  lived  to  the  praise  of 
Thy  name  for  her  faith  and  conversation ;  yet  dare  I  not  say 
that  from  what  time  Thou  regeneratedst  her  by  baptism,  no 
word  issued  from  her  mouth  against  Thy  Commandment. 
Thy  Son,  the  Truth,  hath  said,  Whosoever  shall  say  unto  his 
brother,  Thou  fool,  shall  be  in  danger  of  hell  fire.  And  woe 
be  even  unto  the  commendable  life  of  men,  if,  laying  aside 
mercy,  Thou  shouldest  examine  it.  But  because  Thou  art 
not  extreme  in  enquiring  after  sins,  we  confidently  hope  to 
find  some  place  with  Thee.  But  whosoever  reckons  up  his 
real  merits  to  Thee,  what  reckons  he  up  to  Thee,  but  Thine 
own  gifts?  O  that  men  would  know  themselves  to  be  men; 
and  that  he  that  glorieth,  would  glory  in  the  Lord. 

I  therefore,  O  my  Praise  and  my  Life,  God  of  my  heart, 
laying  aside  for  a  while  her  good  deeds,  for  which  I  give 
thanks  to  Thee  with  joy,  do  now  beseech  Thee  for  the  sins 
of  my  mother.  Hearken  unto  me,  I  entreat  Thee,  by  the 
Medicine  of  our  wounds,  Who  hung  upon  the  tree,  and  now 
sitting  at  Thy  right  hand  maketh  intercession  to  Thee  for 
us.  I  know  that  she  dealt  mercifully,  and  from  her  heart 
forgave  her  debtors  their  debts;  do  Thou  also  forgive  her 
debts,  whatever  she  may  have  contracted  in  so  many  years, 
since  the  water  of  salvation.  Forgive  her,  Lord,  forgive,  I 
beseech  Thee;  enter  not  into  judgment  with  her.  Let  Thy 
mercy  be  exalted  above  Thy  justice,  since  Thy  words  are 
true,  and  Thou  hast  promised  mercy  unto  the  merciful;  which 
Thou  gavest  them  to  be,  who  wilt  have  mercy  on  whom  Thou 
wilt  have  mercy;  and  wilt  have  compassion,  on  whom  Thou 
hast  had  compassion. 

And,  I  believe,  Thou  hast  already  done  what  I  ask;  but 
accept,  0  Lord,  the  free-will  offerings  of  my  mouth.  For 
she,  the  day  of  her  dissolution  now  at  hand,  took  no  thought 


368  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

to  have  her  body  sumptuously  wound  up,  or  embalmed  with 
spices ;  nor  desired  she  a  choice  monument,  or  to  be  buried 
in  her  own  land.  These  things  she  enjoined  us  not;  but  de- 
sired only  to  have  her  name  commemorated  at  Thy  Altar, 
which  she  had  served  without  intermission  of  one  day:  whence 
she  knew  that  holy  sacrifice  to  be  dispensed,  by  which  the 
hand-writing  that  was  against  us,  is  blotted  out;  through 
which  the  enemy  was  triumphed  over,  who  summing  up  our 
offenses,  and  seeking  what  to  lay  to  our  charge,  found  noth- 
ing in  Him,  in  Whom  we  conquer.  Who  shall  restore  to 
Him  the  innocent  blood?  Who  repay  Him  the  price  where- 
with He  bought  us,  and  so  take  us  from  Him?  Unto  the 
Sacrament  of  which  our  ransom,  Thy  handmaid  bound  her 
soul  by  the  bond  of  faith.  Let  none  sever  her  from  Thy 
protection:  let  neither  the  lion  nor  the  dragon  interpose 
himself  by  force  or  fraud.  For  she  will  not  answer  that  she 
owes  nothing,  lest  she  be  convicted  and  seized  by  the  crafty 
accuser:  but  she  will  answer,  that  her  sins  are  forgiven  her 
by  Him,  to  Whom  none  can  repay  that  price,  which  He, 
Who  owed  nothing,  paid  for  us. 

May  she  rest  then  in  peace  with  the  husband,  before  and 
after  whom  she  had  never  any ;  whom  she  obeyed,  with 
patience  'bringing  forth  fruit  unto  Thee,  that  she  might  win 
him  also  unto  Thee.  And  inspire,  O  Lord  my  God,  inspire 
Thy  servants  my  brethren.  Thy  sons  my  masters,  whom  with 
voice,  and  heart,  and  pen  I  serve,  that  so  many  as  shall  read 
these  Confessions,  may  at  Thy  Altar  remember  Monnica  Thy 
handmaid,  with  Patricius,  her  sometimes  husband,  by  whose 
bodies  Thou  broughtest  me  into  this  life,  how,  I  know  not. 
May  they  with  devout  affection  remember  my  parents  in  this 
transitory  light,  my  brethren  under  Thee  our  Father  in  our 
Catholic  Mother,  and  my  fellow  citizens  in  that  eternal 
Jerusalem,  which  Thy  pilgrim  people  sigheth  after  from  their 
Exodus,  even  unto  their  return  thither.  That  so,  my  mother's 
last  request  of  me,  may  through  my  confessions,  more  than 
through  my  prayers,  be,  through  the  prayers  of  many,  more 
abundantly  fulfilled  to  her. 


SAINT  AUGUSTINE  CC9 


BOOK  X 

LET  me  know  Thee,  0  Lord,  who  knowest  me:  let  me  know 
Thee,  as  I  am  known.  Power  of  my  soul,  enter  into  it,  and 
fit  it  for  Thee,  that  Thou  mayest  have  and  hold  it  without 
spot  or  wrinkle.  This  is  my  hope,  therefore  do  I  speak; 
and  in  this  hope  do  I  rejoice,  when  I  rejoice  healthfully. 
Other  things  of  this  life  are  the  less  to  be  sorrowed  for,  the 
more  they  are  sorrowed  for;  and  the  more  to  be  sorrowed 
for,  the  less  men  sorrow  for  them.  For  behold,  Thou  lovest 
the  truth,  and  he  that  doth  it,  cometh  to  the  light.  This 
would  I  do  in  my  heart  before  Thee  in  confession:  and  in 
my  writing,  before  many  witnesses. 

And  from  Thee,  O  Lord,  unto  whose  eyes  the  abyss  of 
man's  conscience  is  naked,  what  could  be  hidden  in  me  though 
I  would  not  confess  it?  For  I  should  hide  Thee  from  me, 
not  me  from  Thee.  But  now,  for  that  my  groaning  is  wit- 
ness, that  I  am  displeased  with  myself,  Thou  shinest  out, 
and  art  pleasing,  and  beloved,  and  longed  for;  that  I  may 
be  ashamed  of  myself,  and  renounce  myself,  and  choose  Thee, 
and  neither  please  Thee,  nor  myself,  but  in  Thee.  To  Thee 
therefore,  O  Lord,  am  I  open,  whatever  I  am ;  and  with  what 
fruit  I  confess  unto  Thee,  I  have  said.  Nor  do  I  it  with 
words  and  sounds  of  the  flesh,  but  with  the  words  of  my 
soul,  and  the  cry  of  the  thought  which  Thy  ear  knoweth. 
For  when  I  am  evil,  then  to  confess  to  Thee  is  nothing  else 
than  to  be  displeased  with  myself;  but  when  holy,  nothing 
else  than  not  to  ascribe  it  to  myself:  because  Thou,  O  Lord, 
blessest  the  godly,  but  first  Thou  justifieth  him  when  un- 
godly. My  confession  then,  O  my  God,  in  Thy  sight,  is  made 
silently,  and  not  silently.  For  in  sound,  it  is  silent;  in  af- 
fection, it  cries  aloud.  For  neither  do  I  utter  any  thing  right 
unto  men,  which  Thou  hast  not  before  heard  from  me;  nor 
dost  Thou  hear  any  such  thing  from  me,  which  Thou  hast 
not  first  said  unto  me. 

What  then  have  I  to  do  with  men,  that  they  should  hear 
my  confessions;  as  if  they  could  heal  all  my  infirmities?  A 
race,  curious  to  know  the  lives  of  others,  slothful  to  amend 
their  own.  Why  seek  they  to  hear  from  me  what  I  am; 
who  will  not  hear  from  Thee  what  themselves  are?  And 

A.  V.  1—24 


870  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

how  know  they,  when  from  myself  they  hear  of  myself, 
whether  I  say  true;  seeing  no  man  knows  what  is  in  man, 
but  the  spirit  of  man  which  is  in  him?  But  if  they  hear 
from  Thee  of  themselves,  they  cannot  say,  "The  Lord 
lieth."  For  what  is  it  to  hear  from  Thee  of  themselves,  but 
to  know  themselves?  and  who  knoweth  and  saith,  "It  is 
false,"  unless  himself  lieth?  But  because  charity  believeth 
all  things;  (that  is,  among  those  whom  knitting  unto  itself  it 
maketh  one,)  I  also,  0  Lord,  will  in  such  wise  confess  unto 
Thee,  that  men  may  hear,  to  whom  I  cannot  demonstrate 
whether  I  confess  truly ;  yet  they  believe  me,  whose  ears  char- 
ity openeth  unto  me. 

Not  with  doubting,  but  with  assured  consciousness,  do  I 
love  Thee,  Lord.  Thou  hast  stricken  my  heart  with  Thy 
word,  and  I  loved  Thee.  Yea  also  heaven,  and  earth,  and  all 
that  therein  is,  behold,  on  every  side  they  bid  me  love  Thee; 
nor  cease  to  say  so  unto  all,  that  they  may  ~be  without  excuse. 
But  more  deeply  wilt  Thou  have  mercy  on  whom  Thou  wilt 
have  mercy,  and  w-ilt  have  compassion  on  whom  Thou  hast 
had  compassion:  else  in  deaf  ears  do  the  heaven  and  the  earth 
speak  Thy  praises.  But  what  do  I  love,  when  I  love  Thee? 
not  beauty  of  bodies,  nor  the  fair  harmony  of  time,  nor  the 
brightness  of  the  light,  so  gladsome  to  our  eyes,  nor  sweet 
melodies  of  varied  songs,  nor  the  fragrant  smell  of  flowers, 
and  ointments,  and  spices,  not  manna  and  honey,  not  limbs 
acceptable  to  embracements  of  flesh.  None  of  these  I  love, 
when  I  love  my  God ;  and  yet  I  love  a  kind  of  light,  and 
melody,  and  fragrance,  and  meat,  and  embracement,  when  I 
love  my  God,  the  light,  melody,  fragrance,  meat,  embrace- 
ment of  my  inner  man :  where  there  shineth  unto  my  soul, 
what  space  cannot  contain,  and  there  soundeth,  what  time 
beareth  not  away,  and  there  smelleth,  what  breathing  dis- 
perseth  not,  and  there  tasteth,  what  eating  diminisheth  not, 
and  there  clingeth,  what  satiety  divorceth  not.  This  is  it 
which  I  love,  when  I  love  my  God. 

Too  late  loved  I  Thee,  O  Thou  Beauty  of  ancient  days,  yet 
ever  new !  too  late  I  loved  Thee !  And  behold,  Thou  wert 
within,  and  I  abroad,  and  there  I  searched  for  Thee;  de- 
formed I.  plunging  amid  those  fair  forms,  which  Thou  hadst 
made.  T!:o-i  w  -vt  with  mo,  but  I  was  not  with  Thee.  Things 


SAINT  AUGUSTINE  371 

held  me  far  from  Thee,  which,  unless  they  were  in  Thee,  were 
not  at  all.  Thou  calledst,  and  shoutedst,  and  burstest  my 
deafness.  Thou  flashedst,  shonest,  and  scatteredst  my  blind- 
ness. Thou  breathedst  odors,  and  I  drew  in  breath  and  pant 
for  Thee.  I  tasted,  and  hunger  and  thirst.  Thou  touchedst 
me,  and  I  burned  for  Thy  peace. 

When  I  shall  with  my  whole  self  cleave  to  Thee,  I  shall  no- 
where have  sorrow,  or  labor;  and  my  life  shall  wholly  live, 
as  wholly  full  of  Thee.  But  now  since  whom  Thou  fillest, 
Thou  liftest  up,  because  I  am  not  full  of  Thee  I  am  a  burthen 
to  myself.  Lamentable  joys  strive  with  joyous  sorrows:  and 
on  which  side  is  the  victory,  I  know  not.  Woe  is  me !  Lord, 
have  pity  on  me.  My  evil  sorrows  strive  with  my  good  joys; 
and  on  which  side  is  the  victory,  I  know  not.  Woe  is  me ! 
Lord,  have  pity  on  me.  Woe  is  me !  lo !  I  hide  not  my  wounds ; 
Thou  art  the  Physician,  I  the  sick;  Thou  merciful,  I  miser- 
able. Is  not  the  life  of  man  upon  earth  all  trial?  Who 
wishes  for  troubles  and  difficulties?  Thou  commandest  them 
to  be  endured,  not  to  be  loved.  No  man  loves  what  he  en- 
dures, though  he  love  to  endure.  For  though  he  rejoices  that 
he  endures,  he  had  rather  there  were  nothing  for  him  to  en- 
dure. 

In  my  adversity,  I  long  for  prosperity;  in  prosperity,  I 
fear  adversity.  What  middle  place  is  there  betwixt  these 
two,  where  the  life  of  man  is  not  all  trial?  Woe  to  the  pros- 
perities of  the  world,  once  and  again,  through  fear  of  ad- 
versity, and  corruption  of  joy !  Woe  to  the  adversities  of  the 
world,  once  and  again,  and  the  third  time,  from  the  longing 
for  prosperity,  and  because  adversity  itself  is  a  hard  thing, 
and  lest  it  shatter  endurance.  Is  not  the  life  of  man  upon 
earth  all  trial,  without  any  interval? 

And  all  my  hope  is  nowhere  but  in  Thy  exceeding  great 
mercy.  Give  what  Thou  enjoinest,  and  enjoin  what  Thou 
wilt.  Thou  enjoinest  us  continency;  and  when  I  knew,  saith 
one,  that  no  man  can  be  continent,  unless  God  give  it,  this 
also  was  a  part  of  wisdom  to  know  whose  gift  she  is.  By  conti- 
nency verily,  are  we  bound  up  and  brought  back  into  One, 
whence  we  were  dissipated  into  many.  For  too  little  doth 
he  love  Thee,  who  loves  anything  with  Thee,  which  he  loveth 
not  for  Thee.  0  love,  whoever  burnest  and  never  consumest ! 


372 

0  charity,  my  God !  kindle  me.  Thou  enjoinest  continency : 
give  me  what  Thou  enjoinest,  and  enjoin  what  Thou  wilt. 

Verily  Thou  enjoinest  me  continency  from  the  lust  of  the 
flesh,  the  lust  of  the  eyes,  and  the  ambition  of  the  world. 
Thou  enjoinest  continency  from  concubinage;  and,  for  wed- 
lock itself,  Thou  hast  counseled  something  better  than  what 
Thou  hast  permitted.  And  since  Thou  gavest  it,  it  was  done, 
even  before  I  became  a  dispenser  of  Thy  Sacrament.  But 
there  yet  live  in  my  memory  (whereof  I  have  much  spoken) 
the  images  of  such  things,  as  my  ill  custom  there  fixed ; 
which  haunt  me,  strengthless  when  I  am  awake:  but  in  sleep, 
not  only  so  as  to  give  pleasure,  but  even  to  obtain  assent,  and 
what  is  very  like  reality.  Yea,  so  far  prevails  the  illusion  of 
the  image,  in  my  soul  and  in  my  flesh,  that,  when  asleep,  false 
visions  persuade  to  that  which  when  waking,  the  true  cannot. 
Am  I  not  then  myself,  0  Lord  my  God  ?  And  yet  there  is  so 
much  difference  betwixt  myself  and  myself,  within  that  mo- 
ment wherein  I  pass  from  waking  to  sleeping,  or  return  from 
sleeping  to  waking!  Where  is  reason  then,  which,  awake, 
resist eth  such  suggestions  ?  And  should  the  things  themselves 
be  urged  on  it,  it  remaineth  unshaken.  Is  it  clasped  up  with 
the  eyes?  is  it  lulled  asleep  with  the  senses  of  the  body? 
And  whence  is  it  that  often  even  in  sleep  we  resist,  and  mind- 
ful of  our  purpose,  and  abiding  most  chastely  in  it,  yield  no 
assent  to  such  enticements  ?  And  yet  so  much  difference  there 
is,  that  when  it  happeneth  otherwise,  upon  waking  we  return 
to  peace  of  conscience:  and  by  this  very  difference  discover 
that  we  did  not,  what  yet  we  be  sorry  that  in  some  way  it  was 
done  in  us. 

Art  Thou  not  mighty,  God  Almighty,  so  as  to  heal  all  the 
diseases  of  my  soul,  and  by  Thy  more  abundant  grace  to 
quench  even  the  impure  motions  of  my  sleep?  Thou  wilt 
increase.  Lord,  Thy  gifts  more  and  more  in  me,  that  my  soul 
may  follow  me  to  Thee,  disentangled  from  the  bird-lime  of 
concupiscence;  that  it  rebel  not  against  itself,  and  even  in 
dreams  not  only  not,  through  images  of  sense,  commit  those 
debasing  corruptions,  even  to  pollution  of  the  flesh,  but  not 
even  to  consent  unto  them.  For  that  nothing  of  this  sort 
should  have,  over  the  pure  affections  even  of  a  sleeper,  the 
very  least  influence,  not  even  such  as  a  thought  would  re- 


SAINT  AUGUSTINE  373 

strain, — to  work  this,  not  only  during  life,  but  even  at  my 
present  age,  is  not  hard  for  the  Almighty,  Who  art  able  to  do 
above  all  that  we  ask  or  think.  But  what  I  yet  am  in  this  kind 
of  my  evil,  have  I  confessed  unto  my  good  Lord;  rejoicing 
with  trembling,  in  that  which  Thou  hast  given  me,  and  be- 
moaning that  wherein  I  am  still  imperfect ;  hoping,  that  Thou 
wilt  perfect  Thy  mercies  in  me,  even  to  perfect  peace,  which 
my  outward  and  inward  man  shall  have  with  Thee,  when 
death  shall  be  swallowed  up  in  victory. 

There  is  another  evil  of  the  day,  which  I  would  were  suffi- 
cient for  it.  For  by  eating  and  drinking  we  repair  the  daily 
decays  of  our  body,  until  Thou  destroy  both  belly  and  meat, 
when  Thou  shalt  slay  my  emptiness  with  a  wonderful  fullness, 
and  clothe  this  incorruptible  with  an  eternal  incorruption. 
But  now  the  necessity  is  sweet  unto  me,  against  which  sweet- 
ness I  fight,  that  I  be  not  taken  captive ;  and  carry  on  a  daily 
war  by  fastings ;  often  bringing  my  body  into  subjection,  and 
my  pains  are  removed  by  pleasure.  For  hunger  and  thirst 
are  in  a  manner  pains ;  they  burn  and  kill  like  a  fever,  unless 
the  medicine  of  nourishments  come  to  our  aid.  Which  since 
it  is  at  hand  through  the  consolations  of  Thy  gifts,  with  which 
land,  and  water,  and  air  serve  our  weakness,  our  calamity  is 
termed  gratification. 

This  hast  Thou  taught  me,  that  I  should  set  myself  to  take 
food  as  physic.  But  while  I  am  passing  from  the  discomfort 
of  emptiness  to  the  content  of  replenishing,  in  the  very  pas- 
sage the  snare  of  concupiscence  besets  me.  For  that  passing, 
is  pleasure,  nor  is  there  any  other  way  to  pass  thither, 
whither  we  needs  must  pass.  And  health  being  the  cause  of 
eating  and  drinking,  there  joineth  itself  as  an  attendant  a 
dangerous  pleasure,  which  mostly  endeavors  to  go  before  it, 
so  that  I  may  for  her  sake  do  what  I  say  I  do,  or  wish  to  do, 
for  health's  sake.  Nor  have  each  the  same  measure;  for 
what  is  enough  for  health,  is  too  little  for  pleasure.  And  oft 
it  is  uncertain,  whether  it  be  the  necessary  care  of  the  body 
which  is  yet  asking  for  sustenance,  or  whether  a  voluptuous 
deceivableness  of  greediness  is  proffering  its  services.  In  this 
uncertainty  the  unhappy  soul  rejoiceth,  and  therein  prepares 
an  excuse  to  shield  itself,  glad  that  it  appeareth  not  what 
suflficeth  for  the  moderation  of  health,  that  under  the  cloak 


374.  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

of  health,  it  may  disguise  the  matter  of  gratification.  These 
temptations  I  daily  endeavor  to  resist,  and  I  call  on  Thy 
right  hand,  and  to  Thee  do  I  refer  my  perplexities;  because 
I  have  as  yet  no  settled  counsel  herein. 

I  hear  the  voice  of  my  God  commanding,  Let  not  your 
hearts  be  overcharged  with  surfeiting  and  drunkenness. 
Drunkenness  is  far  from  me ;  Thou  wilt  have  mercy  that  it 
come  not  near  me.  But  full-feeding  sometimes  creepeth  upon 
Thy  servant ;  Thou  wilt  have  mercy,  that  it  may  be  far  from 
me.  For  no  one  can  be  continent  unless  Thou  givest  it.  Many 
things  Thou  givest  us,  praying  for  them;  and  what  good 
soever  we  have  received  before  we  prayed,  from  Thee  we 
received  it ;  yea  to  the  end  we  might  afterwards  know  this,  did 
we  before  receive  it.  Drunkard  was  I  never,  but  drunkards 
have  I  known  made  sober  by  Thee.  From  Thee  then  it  was, 
that  they  who  never  were  such,  should  not  so  be,  as  from  Thee 
it  was,  that  they  who  have  been,  should  not  ever  so  be;  and 
from  Thee  it  was,  that  both  might  know  from  Whom  it  was. 
I  heard  another  voice  of  Thine,  Go  not  after  thy  lusts,  and 
from  thy  pleasure  turn  away.  Yea  by  Thy  favor  have  I  heard 
that  which  I  have  much  loved ;  neither  if  we  eat,  shall  we 
abound;  neither  if  we  eat  not,  shall  we  lack;  which  is  to  say, 
neither  shall  the  one  make  me  plenteous,  nor  the  other  miser- 
able. I  heard  also  another,  for  I  have  learned  in  whatsoever 
state  I  am,  therewith  to  be  content;  I  know  how  to  abound, 
and  how  to  suffer  need.  I  can  do  all  things  through  Christ 
that  strengtheneth  me.  Behold  a  soldier  of  the  heavenly 
camp,  not  the  dust  which  we  are.  But  remember,  Lord,  that 
we  are  dust,  and  that  of  dust  thou  hast  made  man;  and  he 
was  lost  and  is  found.  Nor  could  he  of  himself  do  this,  be- 
cause he  whom  I  so  loved,  saying  this  through  the  in-breath- 
ing of  Thy  inspiration,  was  of  the  same  dust.  7  can  do  all 
things  (saith  he)  through  Him  that  strengthened  me. 
Strengthen  me,  that  7  can.  Give  what  Thou  enjoinest,  and 
enjoin  what  Thou  wilt.  He  confesses  to  have  received,  and 
when  he  glorieth,  in  the  Lord  he  glorieth.  Another  have  I 
heard  begging  that  he  might  receive,  Take  from  me  (saith  he) 
the  desires  of  the  belly;  whence  it  appeareth,  O  my  holy  God, 
that  Thou  givest,  when  that  is  done  which  Thou  commandest 
to  be  done. 


SAINT  AUGUSTINE  375 

Thou  hast  taught  me,  good  Father,  that  to  the  pure,  all 
things  are  pure;  but  that  it  is  evil  unto  the  man  that  eateth 
with  offense;  and,  that  every  creature  of  Thine  is  good,  and 
nothing  to  be  refused,  which  is  received  with  thanksgiving; 
and  that  meat  commendeth  us  not  to  God;  and,  that  no  man 
should  judge  us  in  meat  or  drink;  and,  that  he  which  eateth, 
let  him  not  despise  him  that  eateth  not;  and  let  not  him  that 
eateth  not,  judge  him  that  eateth.  These  things  have  I 
learned,  thanks  be  to  Thee,  praise  to  Thee,  my  God,  my  Mas- 
ter, knocking  at  my  ears,  enlightening  my  heart ;  deliver  me 
out  of  all  temptation.  I  fear  not  uncleanness  of  meat,  but  the 
uncleanness  of  lusting.  I  know,  that  Noah  was  permitted  to 
eat  all  kind  of  flesh  that  was  good  for  food ;  that  Elijah  was 
fed  with  flesh;  that  John,  endued  with  an  admirable  absti- 
nence, was  not  polluted  by  feeding  on  living  creatures,  lo- 
custs. I  know  also  that  Esau  was  deceived  by  lusting  for 
lentils;  and  that  David  blamed  himself  for  desiring  a  draft 
of  water;  and  that  our  King  was  tempted,  not  concerning 
flesh,  but  bread.  And  therefore  the  people  in  the  wilderness 
also  deserved  to  be  reproved,  not  for  desiring  flesh,  but  be- 
cause, in  the  desire  of  food,  they  murmured  against  the  Lord. 

Placed  then  amid  these  temptations,  I  strive  daily  against 
concupiscence  in  eating  and  drinking.  For  it  is  not  of  such 
nature,  that  I  can  settle  on  cutting  it  off  once  for  all,  and 
never  touching  it  afterward,  as  I  could  of  concubinage.  The 
bridle  of  the  throat  then  is  to  be  held  attempered  between 
slackness  and  stiffness.  And  who  is  he,  O  Lord,  who  is  not 
somewhat  transported  beyond  the  limits  of  necessity  ?  whoever 
he  is,  he  is  a  great  one ;  let  him  make  Thy  Name  great.  But 
I  am  not  such,  for  I  am  a  sinful  man.  Yet  do  I  too  magnify 
Thy  name ;  and  He  maketh  intercession  to  Thee  for  my  sins, 
who  hath  overcome  the  world;  numbering  me  among  the 
weak  members  of  His  body;  because  thine  eyes  have  seen 
that  of  Him  which  is  imperfect,  and  in  Thy  book  shall  all  be 
written. 

With  the  allurements  of  smells,  I  am  not  much  concerned. 
When  absent,  I  do  not  miss  them ;  when  present,  I  do  not  re- 
fuse them;  yet  ever  ready  to  be  without  them.  So  I  seem 
to  myself;  perchance  I  am  deceived.  For  that  also  is  a 
mournful  darkness,  whereby  my  abilities  within  me,  are 


376  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

hidden  from  me ;  so  that  my  mind  making  inquiry  into  herself 
of  her  own  powers,  ventures  not  readily  to  believe  herself; 
because  even  what  is  in  it,  is  mostly  hidden,  unless  experi- 
ence reveal  it.  And  no  one  ought  to  be  secure  in  that  life, 
the  whole  whereof  is  called  a  trial,  that  he  who  hath  been 
capable,  of  worse  to  be  made  better,  may  not  likewise  of 
better  be  made  worse.  Our  only  hope,  only  confidence,  only 
assured  promise,  is  Thy  mercy. 

The  delights  of  the  ear,  had  more  firmly  entangled  and 
subdued  me;  but  Thou  didst  loosen,  and  free  me.  Now,  in 
those  melodies  which  Thy  words  breathe  soul  into,  when  sung 
with  a  sweet  and  attuned  voice,  I  do  a  little  repose ;  yet  not 
so  as  to  be  held  thereby,  but  that  I  can  disengage  myself 
when  I  will.  But  with  the  words  which  are  their  life  and 
whereby  they  find  admission  into  me,  themselves  seek  in  my 
affections  a  place  of  some  estimation,  and  I  can  scarcely 
assign  them  one  suitable.  For  at  one  time  I  seem  to  myself 
to  give  them  more  honor  than  is  seemly,  feeling  our  minds 
to  be  more  holily  and  fervently  raised  unto  a  flame  of  devo- 
tion, by  the  holy  words  themselves  when  thus  sung,  than 
when  not;  and  that  the  several  affections  of  our  spirit,  by  a 
sweet  variety,  have  their  own  proper  measures  in  the  voice 
and  singing,  by  some  hidden  correspondence  wherewith  they 
are  stirred  up.  But  this  contentment  of  the  flesh,  to  which 
the  soul  must  not  be  given  over  to  be  enervated,  doth  oft 
beguile  me,  the  sense  not  so  waiting  upon  reason,  as  patiently 
to  follow  her ;  but  having  been  admitted  merely  for  her  sake, 
it  strives  even  to  run  before  her,  and  lead  her.  Thus  in  these 
things  I  unawares  sin,  but  afterwards  am  aware  of  it. 

At  other  times,  shunning  over-anxiously  this  very  decep- 
tion, I  err  in  too  great  strictness;  and  sometimes  to  that  de- 
gree, as  to  wish  the  whole  melody  of  sweet  music  which  is  used 
to  David's  Psalter,  banished  from  my  ears,  and  the  Church's 
too ;  and  that  mode  seems  to  me  safer,  which  I  remember  to 
have  been  often  told  me  of  Athanasius  Bishop  of  Alexandria, 
who  made  the  reader  of  the  psalm  utter  it  with  so  slight  in- 
flection of  voice  that  it  was  nearer  speaking  than  singing. 
Yet  again,  when  I  remember  the  tears  I  shed  at  the  Psalmody 
of  Thy  Church,  in  the  beginning  of  my  recovered  faith ;  and 
how  at  this  time,  I  am  moved,  not  with  the  singing,  but  with 


SAINT  AUGUSTINE  377 

the  things  sung,  when  they  are  sung  with  a  clear  voice  and 
modulation  most  suitable,  I  acknowledge  the  great  use  of  this 
institution.  Thus  I  fluctuate  between  peril  of  pleasure,  and 
approved  wholesomeness ;  inclined  the  rather  (though  not  as 
pronouncing  an  irrevocable  opinion)  to  approve  of  the  usage 
of  singing  in  the  church ;  that  so  by  the  delight  of  the  ears, 
the  weaker  minds  may  rise  to  the  feeling  of  devotion.  Yet 
when  it  befalls  me  to  be  more  moved  with  the  voice  than  the 
words  sung,  I  confess  to  have  sinned  penally,  and  then  had 
rather  not  hear  music.  See  now  my  state ;  weep  with  me,  and 
weep  for  me,  ye,  who  so  regulate  your  feelings  within,  as  that 
good  action  ensues.  For  you  who  do  not  act,  these  things 
touch  not  you.  But  Thou,  0  Lord  my  God,  hearken ;  behold, 
and  see,  and  have  mercy,  and  heal  me,  Thou,  in  whose  pres- 
ence I  have  become  a  problem  to  myself;  and  that  is  my  in- 
firmity. 

There  remains  the  pleasure  of  these  eyes  of  my  flesh,  on 
which  to  make  my  confessions  in  the  hearing  of  the  ears  of 
Thy  temple,  those  brotherly  and  devout  ears;  and  so  to  con- 
clude the  temptations  of  the  lust  of  the  flesh,  which  yet  assail 
me,  groaning  earnestly,  and  desiring  to  "be  clothed  upon  with 
my  house  from  heaven.  The  eyes  love  fair  and  varied  forms, 
and  bright  and  soft  colors.  Let  not  these  occupy  my  soul; 
let  God  rather  occupy  it,  who  made  these  things,  very  good 
indeed,  yet  is  He  my  good,  not  they.  And  these  affect  me, 
waking,  the  whole  day,  nor  is  any  rest  given  me  from  them, 
as  there  is  from  musical,  sometimes,  in  silence,  from  all  voices. 
For  this  queen  of  colors,  the  light,  bathing  all  which  we  be- 
hold, wherever  I  am  through  the  day,  gliding  by  me  in  varied 
forms,  sooths  me  when  engaged  on  other  things,  and  not 
observing  it.  And  so  strongly  doth  it  entwine  itself,  that 
if  it  be  suddenly  withdrawn,  it  is  with  longing  sought  for, 
and  if  absent  long,  saddeneth  the  mind. 

0  Thou  Light,  which  Tobias  saw,  when,  these  eyes  closed, 
he  taught  his  son  the  way  of  life;  and  himself  went  before 
with  the  feet  of  charity,  never  swerving.  Or  which  Isaac 
saw,  when  his  fleshly  eyes  being  heavy  and  closed  by  old  age, 
it  was  vouchsafed  him,  not,  knowingly  to  bless  his  sons,  but 
by  blessing  to  know  them.  Or  which  Jacob  saw,  when  he  also, 
blind  through  great  age,  with  illumined  heart,  in  the  persons 


378  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

of  his  sons  shed  light  on  the  different  races  of  the  future 
people,  in  them  foresignified ;  and  laid  his  hands,  mystically 
crossed,  upon  his  grandchildren  by  Joseph,  not  as  their  father 
by  his  outward  eye  corrected  them,  but  as  himself  inwardly 
discerned.  This  is  the  light,  it  is  one,  and  all  are  one,  who  see 
and  love  it.  But  that  corporeal  light  whereof  I  spake,  it  sea- 
soneth  the  life  of  this  world  for  her  blind  lovers,  with  an  entic- 
ing and  dangerous  sweetness.  But  they  who  know  how  to 
praise  Thee  for  it,  "O  All-creating  Lord,"  take  it  up  in  Thy 
hymns,  and  are  not  taken  up  with  it  in  their  sleep.  Such 
would  I  be.  These  seductions  of  the  eyes  I  resist,  lest  my  feet 
wherewith  I  walk  upon  Thy  way  be  ensnared ;  and  I  lift  up 
mine  invisible  eyes  to  Thee,  that  Thou  wouldest  pluck  my 
feet  out  of  the  snare.  Thou  dost  ever  and  anon  pluck  them 
out,  for  they  are  ensnared.  Thou  ceasest  not  to  pluck  them 
out,  while  I  often  entangle  myself  in  the  snares  on  all  sides 
laid;  because  Thou  that  keepest  Israel  shalt  neither  slumber 
nor  sleep. 

What  innumerable  toys,  made  by  divers  arts  and  manufac- 
tures, in  our  apparel,  shoes,  utensils  and  all  sort  of  works, 
in  pictures  also  and  divers  images,  and  these  far  exceeding  all 
necessary  and  moderate  use  and  all  pious  meaning,  have  men 
added  to  tempt  their  own  eyes  withal ;  outwardly  following 
what  themselves  make,  inwardly  forsaking  Him  by  whom 
themselves  were  made,  and  destroying  that  which  themselves 
have  been  made !  But  I,  my  God  and  my  Glory,  do  hence  also 
sing  a  hymn  to  Thee,  and  do  consecrate  praise  to  Him  who 
consecrateth  me,  because  those  beautiful  patterns  which 
through  men's  souls  are  conveyed  into  their  cunning  hands, 
come  from  that  Beauty,  Which  is  above  our  souls,  Which  my 
soul  day  and  night  sigheth  after.  But  the  framers  and  fol- 
lowers of  the  outward  beauties,  derive  thence  the  rule  of 
judging  of  them,  but  not  of  using  them.  And  He  is  there, 
though  they  perceive  Him  not,  that  so  they  might  not  wander, 
but  keep  their  strength  for  Thee,  and  not  scatter  it  abroad 
upon  pleasureable  wearinesses.  And  I,  though  I  speak  and 
see  this,  entangle  my  steps  with  these  outward  beauties;  but 
Thou  pluckest  me  out,  O  Lord,  Thou  pluckest  me  out ;  because 
Thy  loving-kindness  is  before  my  eyes.  For  I  am  taken  mis- 
erably, and  Thou  pluckest  me  out  mercifully;  sometimes  not 


SAINT  AUGUSTINE  379 

perceiving  it,  when  I  had  but  lightly  lighted  upon  them; 
otherwhiles  with  pain,  because  I  had  stuck  fast  in  them. 

To  this  is  added  another  form  of  temptation  more  mani- 
foldly dangerous.  For  besides  that  concupiscence  of  the  flesh 
which  consisteth  in  the  delight  of  all  senses  and  pleasures, 
wherein  its  slaves,  who  go  far  from  Thee,  waste  and  perish, 
the  soul  hath,  through  the  same  senses  of  the  body,  a  certain 
vain  and  curious  desire,  veiled  under  the  title  of  knowledge 
and  learning,  not  of  delighting  in  the  flesh,  but  of  making 
experiments  through  the  flesh.  The  seat  whereof  being  in 
the  appetite  of  knowledge,  and  sight  being  the  sense  chiefly 
used  for  attaining  knowledge,  it  is  in  Divine  language  called, 
The  lust  of  the  eyes.  For,  to  see,  belongeth  properly  to  the 
eyes ;  yet  we  use  this  word  of  the  other  senses  also,  when  we 
employ  them  in  seeking  knowledge.  For  we  do  not  say,  hark 
how  it  flashes,  or  smell  how  it  glows,  or  taste  how  it  shines, 
or  feel  how  it  gleams ;  for  all  these  are  said  to  be  seen.  And 
yet  we  say  not  only,  see  how  it  shineth,  which  the  eyes  alone 
can  perceive ;  but  also,  see  how  it  soundeth,  see  how  it  smell- 
eth,  see  how  it  tasteth,  see  how  hard  it  is.  And  so  the  general 
experience  of  the  senses,  as  was  said,  is  called  The  lust  of  the 
eyes,  because  the  office  of  seeing,  wherein  the  eyes  hold  the 
prerogative,  the  other  senses  by  way  of  similitude  take  to 
themselves,  when  they  make  search  after  any  knowledge. 

But  by  this  may  more  evidently  be  discerned,  wherein 
pleasure  and  wherein  curiosity  is  the  object  of  the  senses ;  for 
pleasure  seeketh  objects  beautiful,  melodious,  fragrant,  sa- 
vory, soft;  but  curiosity,  for  trial's  sake,  the  contrary  as  well, 
not  for  the  sake  of  suffering  annoyance,  but  out  of  the  lust  of 
making  trial  and  knowing  them.  For  what  pleasure  hath  it, 
to  see  in  a  mangled  carcass  what  will  make  you  shudder  ?  and 
yet  if  it  be  lying  near,  they  flock  thither,  to  be  made  sad,  and 
to  turn  pale.  Even  in  sleep  they  are  afraid  to  see  it.  As  if 
when  awake,  any  one  forced  them  to  see  it,  or  any  report  of 
its  beauty  drew  them  thither !  Thus  also  in  the  other  senses, 
which  it  were  long  to  go  through.  From  this  disease  of  curi- 
osity, are  all  those  strange  sights  exhibited  in  the  theater. 
Hence  men  go  on  to  search  out  the  hidden  powers  of  nature, 
(which  is  besides  our  end,)  which  to  know  profits  not,  and 
wherein  men  desire  nothing  but  to  know.  Hence  also,  if  with 


380  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

that  same  end  of  perverted  knowledge  magical  arts  be  en- 
quired by.  Hence  also  in  religion  itself,  is  God  tempted, 
when  signs  and  wonders  are  demanded  of  Him,  not  desired 
for  any  good  end,  but  merely  to  make  trial  of. 

In  this  so  vast  wilderness,  full  of  snares  and  dangers,  be- 
hold many  of  them  I  have  cut  off,  and  thrust  out  of  my  heart, 
as  Thou  hast  given  me,  0  God  of  my  salvation.  And  yet 
when  dare  I  say,  since  so  many  things  of  this  kind  buzz  on 
all  sides  about  our  daily  life — when  dare  I  say,  that  nothing 
of  this  sort  engages  my  attention,  or  causes  in  me  an  idle 
interest?  True,  the  theaters  do  not  now  carry  me  away,  nor 
care  I  to  know  the  courses  of  the  stars,  nor  did  my  soul  ever 
consult  ghosts  departed;  all  sacrilegious  mysteries  I  detest. 
From  Thee,  0  Lord  my  God,  to  whom  I  owe  humble  and 
single-hearted  service,  by  what  artifices  and  suggestions  doth 
the  enemy  deal  with  me  to  desire  some  sign !  But  I  beseech 
thee  by  our  King,  and  by  our  pure  and  holy  country,  Jerusa- 
lem, that  as  any  consenting  thereto  is  far  from  me,  so  may  it 
ever  be  further  and  further.  But  when  I  pray  Thee  for  the 
salvation  of  any,  my  end  and  intention  is  far  different.  Thou 
givest  and  wilt  give  me  to  follow  Thee  willingly,  doing  what 
Thou  wilt. 

Notwithstanding,  in  how  many  most  petty  and  contemptible 
things  is  our  curiosity  daily  tempted,  and  how  often  we  give 
way,  who  can  recount  ?  How  often  do  we  begin,  as  if  we  were 
tolerating  people  telling  vain  stories,  lest  we  offend  the  weak ; 
then  by  degrees  we  take  interest  therein !  I  go  not  now  to 
the  circus  to  see  a  dog  coursing  a  hare;  but  in  the  field,  if 
passing,  that  coursing  peradventure  will  distract  me  even 
from  some  weighty  thought,  and  draw  me  after  it:  not  that  I 
turn  aside  the  body  of  my  beast,  yet  still  incline  my  mind 
thither.  And  unless  Thou,  having  made  me  see  my  infirmity, 
didst  speedily  admonish  me  either  through  the  sight  itself,  by 
some  contemplation  to  rise  towards  Thee,  or  altogether  to  de- 
spise and  pass  it  by,  I  dully  stand  fixed  therein.  What,  when 
sitting  at  home,  a  lizard  catching  flies,  or  a  spider  entangling 
them  rushing  into  her  nets,  oft-times  takes  my  attention?  Is 
the  thing  different,  because  they  are  but  small  creatures? 
I  go  on  from  them  to  praise  Thee  the  wonderful  Creator  and 
Orderer  of  all,  but  this  does  not  first  draw  my  attention.  It 


SAINT  AUGUSTINE  381 

is  one  thing  to  rise  quickly,  another  not  to  fall.  And  of  such 
things  is  my  life  full;  and  my  one  hope  is  Thy  wonderful 
great  mercy.  For  when  our  heart  becomes  the  receptacle  of 
such  things,  and  is  over-charged  with  throngs  of  this  abun- 
dant vanity,  then  are  our  prayers  also  thereby  often  inter- 
rupted and  distracted,  and  whilst  in  Thy  presence  we  direct 
the  voice  of  our  heart  to  Thine  ears,  this  so  great  concern  is 
broken  off,  by  the  rushing  in  of  I  know  not  what  idle  thoughts. 
Shall  we  then  account  this  also  among  things  of  slight  con- 
cernment, or  shall  ought  bring  us  back  to  hope,  save  Thy  com- 
plete mercy,  since  Thou  hast  begun  to  change  us? 

And  Thou  knowest  how  far  Thou  hast  already  changed  me, 
who  first  healedst  me  of  the  lust  of  vindicating  myself,  that 
so  Thou  mightest  forgive  all  the  rest  of  my  iniquities,  and 
heal  all  my  infirmities,  and  redeem  my  life  from  corruption, 
and  crown  me  with  mercy  and  pity,  and  satisfy  my  desire 
with  good  things:  who  didst  curb  my  pride  with  Thy  fear, 
and  tame  my  neck  to  Thy  yoke.  And  now  I  bear  it  and  it  is 
light  unto  me,  because  so  hast  Thou  promised,  and  hast  made 
it ;  and  verily  so  it  was,  and  I  knew  it  not,  when  I  feared  to 
take  it. 

But,  0  Lord,  Thou  alone  Lord  without  pride,  because  Thou 
art  the  only  true  Lord,  who  hast  no  lord ;  hath  this  third  kind 
of  temptation  also  ceased  from  me,  or  can  it  cease  through 
this  whole  life?  To  wish,  namely,  to  be  feared  and  loved  of 
men,  for  no  other  end,  but  that  we  may  have  a  joy  therein 
which  is  no  joy?  A  miserable  life  this,  and  a  foul  boastful- 
ness!  Hence  especially  it  comes,  that  men  do  neither  purely 
love,  nor  fear  Thee.  And  therefore  dost  Thou  resist  the 
prmid,  and  givest  grace  to  the  humble:  yea,  Thou  thunderest 
down  upon  the  ambitions  of  the  world,  and  the  faundations 
of  the  mountains  tremble.  Because  now  certain  offices  of  hu- 
man society  make  it  necessary  to  be  loved  and  feared  of  men, 
the  adversary  of  our  true  blessedness  layeth  hard  at  us,  every 
where  spreading  his  snares  of  "well-done,  well-done;"  that 
greedily  catching  at  them,  we  may  be  taken  unawares,  and 
sever  our  joy  from  Thy  truth,  and  set  it  in  the  deceivingness 
of  men;  and  be  pleased  at  being  loved  and  feared,  not  for 
Thy  sake,  but  in  Thy  stead :  and  thus  having  been  made  like 
him,  he  may  have  them  for  his  own,  not  in  the  bands  of 


382  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

charity,  but  in  the  bonds  of  punishment:  who  purposed  to 
set  his  throne  in  the  north,  that  dark  and  chilled  they  might 
serve  him,  pervertedly  and  crookedly  imitating  Thee.  But  we, 

0  Lord,  behold  we  are  Thy  little  flock;  possess  us  as  Thine, 
stretch  Thy  wings  over  us,  and  let  us  fly  under  them.     Be 
Thou  our  glory;  let  us  be  loved  for  Thee,  and  Thy  word 
feared  in  us.  Who  would  be  praised  of  men,  when  Thou  blam- 
est,  will  not  be  defended  of  men,  when  Thou  judgest ;  nor  de- 
livered, when  Thou  condemnest.    But  when — not  the  sinner  is 
praised  in  the  desires  of  his  soul,  nor  he  blessed  who  doth  un- 
godlily,  but — a  man  is  praised  for  some  gift  which  Thou  hast 
given  him,  and  he  rejoices  more  at  the  praise  for  himself  than 
that  he  hath  the  gift  for  which  he  is  praised,  he  also  is  praised, 
while  Thou  dispraisest ;  and  better  is  he  who  praised  than  he 
who  is  praised.    For  the  one  took  pleasure  in  the  gift  of  God 
in  man ;  the  other  was  better  pleased  with  the  gift  of  man, 
than  of  God. 

By  these  temptations  we  are  assailed  daily,  0  Lord  ;  without 
ceasing  are  we  assailed.  Our  daily  furnace  is  the  tongue  of 
men.  And  in  this  way  also  Thou  commandest  us  continence. 
Give  what  Thou  enjoinest,  and  enjoin  what  Thou  wilt.  Thou 
knowest  on  this  matter  the  groans  of  my  heart,  and  the  floods 
of  mine  eyes.  For  I  cannot  learn  how  far  I  am  more  cleansed 
from  this  plague,  and  I  much  fear  my  secret  sins,  which  Thine 
eyes  know,  mine  do  not.  For  in  other  kinds  of  temptations 

1  have  some  sort  of  means  of  examining  myself;  in  this,  scarce 
any.     For,  in  refraining  my  mind  from  the  pleasures  of  the 
flesh,  and  idle  curiosity,  I  see  how  much  I  have  attained  to, 
when  I  do  without  them ;  foregoing,  or  not  having  them.    For 
then  I  ask  myself  how  much  more  or  less  troublesome  it  is 
to  me,  not  to  have  them  ?    Then,  riches,  which  are  desired,  that 
they  may  serve  to  some  one  or  two  or  all  of  the  three  con- 
cupiscences, if  the  soul  cannot  discern,  whether,  when  it  hath 
them,  it  despiseth  them,  they  may  be  cast  aside,  that  so  it 
may  prove  itself.      But  to  be  without  praise,   and   therein 
essay  our  powers,  must  we  live  ill,  yea  so  abandonedly  and 
atrociously,  that  no  one  should  know  without  detesting  us? 
What  greater  madness  can  be  said,  or  thought  of?     But  if 
praise  useth  and  ought  to  accompany  a  good  life  and  good 
works,  we  ought  as  little  to  forego  its  company,  as  good  life 


SAINT  AUGUSTINE  383 

itself.  Yet  I  know  not,  whether  I  can  well  or  ill  be  without 
anything,  unless  it  be  absent. 

What  then  do  I  confess  unto  Thee  in  this  kind  of  tempta- 
tion, O  Lord?  What,  but  that  I  am  delighted  with  praise, 
but  with  truth  itself,  more  than  with  praise?  For  were  it 
proposed  to  me,  whether  I  would,  being  frenzied  in  error  on 
all  things,  be  praised  by  all  men,  or  being  consistent  and  most 
settled  in  the  truth  be  blamed  by  all,  I  see  which  I  should 
choose.  Yet  fain  would  I,  that  the  approbation  of  another 
should  not  even  increase  my  joy  for  any  good  in  me.  Yet  I 
own,  it  doth  increase  it,  and  not;  so  only,  but  dispraise  doth 
diminish  it.  And  when  I  am  troubled  at  this  my  misery,  an 
excuse  occurs  to  me,  which  of  what  value  it  is,  Thou  God 
knowest,  for  it  leaves  me  uncertain.  For  since  Thou  hast  com- 
manded us  not  continency  alone,  that  is,  from  what  things  to 
refrain  our  love,  but  righteousness  also,  that  is,  whereon  to 
bestow  it,  and  hast  willed  us  to  love  not  Thee  only,  but  our 
neighbor  also ;  often,  when  pleased  with  intelligent  praise,  I 
seem  to  myself  to  be  pleased  with  the  proficiency  or  towardli- 
ness  of  my  neighbor,  or  to  be  grieved  for  evil  in  him,  when 
I  hear  him  dispraise  either  what  he  understands  not,  or  is 
good.  For  sometimes  I  am  grieved  at  my  own  praise,  either 
when  those  things  be  praised  in  me,  in  which  I  mislike  myself, 
or  even  lesser  and  slight  goods  are  more  esteemed,  than  they 
ought.  But  again  how  know  I  whether  I  am  therefore  thus 
affected,  because  I  would  not  have  him  who  praiseth  me,  differ 
from  me  about  myself ;  not  as  being  influenced  by  concern  for 
him,  but  because  those  same  good  things  which  please  me  in 
myself,  please  me  more  when  they  please  another  also?  For 
somehow  I  am  not  praised  when  my  judgment  of  myself  is 
not  praised;  forasmuch  as  either  those  things  are  praised, 
which  displease  me ;  or  those  more,  which  please  me  less.  Am 
I  then  doubtful  of  myself  in  this  matter? 

Behold,  in  Thee,  O  Truth,  I  see,  that  I  ought  not  to  be 
moved  at  my  own  praises,  for  my  own  sake,  but  for  the  good 
of  my  neighbor.  And  whether  it  be  so  with  me,  I  know  not. 
For  herein  I  know  less  of  myself,  than  of  Thee.  I  beseech 
now,  O  my  God,  discover  to  me  myself  also,  that  I  may  confess 
unto  my  brethren,  who  are  to  pray  for  me,  wherein  I  find 
myself  maimed.  Let  me  examine  myself  again  more  dili- 


384  LIBRARY  OF  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

gently.  If  in  my  praise  I  am  moved  with  the  good  of  my 
neighbor,  why  am  I  less  moved  if  another  be  unjustly  dis- 
praised than  if  it  be  myself?  Why  am  I  more  stung  by  re- 
proach cast  upon  myself,  than  at  that  cast  upon  another,  with 
the  same  injustice,  before  me  ?  Know  I  not  this  also  ?  or  is  it 
at  last  that  I  deceive  myself,  and  do  not  the  truth  before  Thee 
in  my  heart  and  tongue?  This  madness  put  far  from  me,  0 
Lord,  lest  mine  own  mouth  be  to  me  the  sinner's  ail  to  make 
fat  my  head.  I  am  poor  and  needy;  yet  best,  while  in  hidden 
groanings  I  displease  myself,  and  seek  Thy  mercy,  until  what 
is  lacking  in  my  defective  state  be  renewed  and  perfected, 
on  to  that  peace  which  the  eye  of  the  proud  knoweth  not. 

Yet  the  word,  which  cometh  out  of  the  mouth,  and  deeds 
known  to  men,  bring  with  them  a  most  dangerous  temptation 
through  the  love  of  praise:  which,  to  establish  a  certain  ex- 
cellency of  our  own,  solicits  and  collects  men's  suffrages.  It 
tempts,  even  when  it  is  reproved  by  myself  in  myself,  on  the 
very  ground  that  it  is  reproved ;  and  often  glories  more  vainly 
of  the  very  contempt  of  vain-glory ;  and  so  it  is  no  longer  con- 
tempt of  vain-glory,  whereof  it  glories;  for  it  doth  not  con- 
temn when  it  glorieth. 

Within  also,  within  is  another  evil,  arising  out  of  a  like 
temptation ;  whereby  men  become  vain,  pleasing  themselves 
in  themselves,  though  they  please  not,  or  displease,  or  care 
not  to  please  others.  But  pleasing  themselves,  they  much 
displease  Thee,  not  only  taking  pleasure  in  things  not  good, 
as  if  good,  but  in  Thy  good  things,  as  though  their  own;  or 
even  if  as  thine,  yet  as  though  for  their  own  merits ;  or  even 
if  as  though  from  Thy  grace,  yet  not  with  brotherly  rejoicing, 
but  envying  that  grace  to  others.  In  all  these  and  the  like 
perils  and  travails,  Thou  seest  the  trembling  of  my  heart;  and 
I  rather  feel  my  wounds  to  be  cured  by  Thee,  than  not  in- 
flicted by  me. 

Where  hast  Thou  not  walked  with  me,  O  Truth,  teaching 
me  what  to  beware,  and  what  to  desire;  when  I  referred  to 
Thee  what  I  could  discover  here  below,  and  consulted  Thee? 
With  my  outward  senses,  as  I  might,  I  surveyed  the  world, 
and  observed  the  life,  which  my  body  hath  from  me,  and 
these  my  senses.  Thence  entered  I  the  recesses  of  my  mem- 
ory, those  manifold  and  spacious  chambers,  wonderfully  fur- 


SAINT  AUGUSTINE  385 

nished  with  innumerable  stores;  and  I  considered,  and  stood 
aghast ;  being  able  to  discern  nothing  of  these  things  without 
Thee,  and  finding  none  of  them  to  be  Thee.  Nor  was  I  myself, 
who  found  out  these  things,  who  went  over  them  all,  and 
labored  to  distinguish  and  to  value  everything  according  to 
its  dignity,  taking  some  things  upon  the  report  of  my  senses, 
questioning  about  others  which  I  felt  to  be  mingled  with 
myself,  numbering  and  distinguishing  the  reporters  them- 
selves, and  in  the  large  treasure-house  of  my  memory,  revolv- 
ing some  things,  storing  up  others,  drawing  out  others.  Nor 
yet  was  I  myself  when  I  did  this,  i.e.  that  my  power  whereby 
I  did  it,  neither  was  it  Thou,  for  Thou  art  the  abiding  light, 
which  I  consulted  concerning  all  these,  whether  they  were, 
what  they  were,  and  how  to  be  valued ;  and  I  heard  Thee  di- 
recting and  commanding  me ;  and  this  I  often  do,  this  delights 
me,  and  as  far  as  I  may  be  freed  from  necessary  duties,  unto 
this  pleasure  have  I  recourse.  Nor  in  all  these  which  I  run 
over  consulting  Thee,  can  I  find  any  safe  place  for  my  soul, 
but  in  Thee ;  whither  my  scattered  members  may  be  gathered, 
and  nothing  of  me  depart  from  Thee.  And  sometimes  Thou 
admittest  me  to  an  affection,  very  unusual,  in  my  inmost  soul ; 
rising  to  a  strange  sweetness,  which  if  it  were  perfected  in  me, 
I  know  not  what  in  it  would  not  belong  to  the  life  to  come. 
But  through  my  miserable  encumbrances  I  sink  down  again 
into  these  lower  things,  and  am  swept  back  by  former  custom, 
and  am  held,  and  greatly  weep,  but  am  greatly  held.  So 
much  doth  the  burthen  of  a  bad  custom  weigh  us  down.  Here 
I  can  stay,  but  would  not;  there  I  would,  but  cannot;  both 
ways,  miserable. 

Thus  then  have  I  considered  the  sicknesses  of  my  sins  in 
that  threefold  concupiscence,  and  have  called  Thy  right  hand 
to  my  help.  For  with  a  wounded  heart  have  I  beheld  Thy 
brightness,  and  stricken  back  I  said,  "who  can  attain  thither? 
/  am  cast  away  from  the  sight  of  Thine  eyes."  Thou  art  the 
Truth  who  presidest  over  all,  but  I  through  my  covetousness, 
would  not  indeed  forego  Thee,  but  would  with  Thee  possess  a 
lie;  as  no  man  would  in  such  wise  speak  falsely,  as  himself  to 
be  ignorant  of  the  truth.  So  then  I  lost  Thee,  because  Thou 
vouchsafest  not  to  be  possessed  with  a  lie. 

Whom  could  I  find  to  reconcile  me  to  Thee?  was  I  to  have 

A.  V.  1—25 


386 

recourse  to  Angels?  by  what  prayers?  by  what  sacraments? 
Many  endeavoring  to  return  unto  Thee,  and  of  themselves  un- 
able, have,  as  I  hear,  tried  this,  and  fallen  into  the  desire  of 
curious  visions,  and  been  accounted  worthy  to  be  deluded. 
For  they,  being  high  minded,  sought  Thee  by  the  pride  of 
learning,  swelling  out  rather,  than  smiting  upon,  their  breasts, 
and  so  by  the  agreement  of  their  heart,  drew  unto  themselves 
the  princes  of  the  air,  the  fellow-conspirators  of  their  pride, 
by  whom,  through  magical  influences,  they  were  deceived, 
seeking  a  mediator,  by  whom  they  might  be  purged,  and  there 
was  none.  For  the  devil  it  was,  transforming  himself  into  an 
Angel  of  light.  And  it  much  enticed  proud  flesh,  that  he  had 
no  body  of  flesh.  For  they  were  mortal,  and  sinners;  but 
Thou,  Lord,  to  whom  they  proudly  sought  to  be  reconciled, 
art  immortal,  and  without  sin.  But  a  mediator  between  God 
and  man,  must  have  something  like  to  God,  something  like  to 
men;  lest  being  in  both  like  to  man,  he  should  be  far  from 
God :  or  if  in  both  like  God,  too  unlike  man :  and  so  not  be  a 
mediator.  That  deceitful  mediator  then,  by  whom  in  Thy 
secret  judgments  pride  deserved  to  be  deluded,  hath  one  thing 
in  common  with  man,  that  is  sin ;  another,  he  would  seem  to 
have  in  common  with  God ;  and  not  being  clothed  with  the 
mortality  of  flesh,  would  vaunt  himself  to  be  immortal.  But 
since  the  wages  of  sin  is  death,  this  hath  he  in  common  with 
men,  that  with  them  he  should  be  condemned  to  death. 

But  the  true  Mediator,  Whom  in  Thy  secret  mercy  Thou 
hast  shewed  to  the  humble,  and  sentest,  that  by  His  example 
also  they  might  learn  that  same  humility,  that  Mediator  be- 
tween God  and  man,  the  Man  Christ  Jesus,  appeared  betwixt 
mortal  sinners  and  the  immortal  Just  One ;  mortal  with  men, 
just  with  God:  that  because  the  wages  of  righteousness  is  life 
and  peace,  He  might  by  a  righteousness  conjoined  with  God, 
make  void  that  death  of  sinners,  now  made  righteous,  which 
lie  willed  to  have  in  common  with  them.  Hence  He  was 
shewed  forth  to  holy  men  of  old ;  that  so  they,  through  faith 
in  His  Passion  to  come,  as  we  through  faith  of  it  passed, 
might  be  saved.  For  as  Man,  He  was  a  Mediator;  but  as  the 
Word,  not  in  the  middle  between  God  and  man,  because  equal 
to  God,  and  God  with  God,  and  together  one  God. 

How  hast  Thou  loved  us,  good  Father,  who  sparcdst  not 


SAINT  AUGUSTINE  387 

Thine  only  Son,  but  deliver 'edst  Him  up  for  us  ungodly! 
How  hast  Thou  loved  us,  for  whom,  He  that  thought  it  no 
robbery  to  be  equal  with  Thee,  was  made  subject  even  to  the 
death  of  the  cross,  He  alone  free  among  the  dead,  having 
power  to  lay  down  His  life,  and  power  to  take  it  again:  for 
us  to  Thee  both  Victor  and  Victim,  and  therefore  Victor,  be- 
cause the  Victim;  for  us  to  Thee  Priest  and  Sacrifice,  and 
therefore  Priest  because  the  Sacrifice ;  making  us  to  Thee,  of 
servants,  sons,  by  being  born  of  Thee,  and  serving  us.  "Well 
then  is  my  hope  strong  in  Him,  that  Thou  wilt  heal  all  my 
infirmities,  by  Him  Who  sitteth  at  Thy  right  hand  and  maketh 
intercession  for  us;  else  should  I  despair.  For  many  and 
great  are  my  infirmities,  many  they  are,  and  great ;  but  Thy 
medicine  is  mightier.  We  might  imagine  that  Thy  Word  was 
far  from  any  union  with  man,  and  despair  of  ourselves,  unless 
He  had  been  made  flesh  and  dwelt  among  us. 

Affrighted  with  my  sins  and  the  burthen  of  my  misery,  I 
had  cast  in  my  heart,  and  had  purposed  to  flee  to  the  wilder- 
ness: but  Thou  forbaddest  me,  and  strengthenedst  me,  saying, 
Therefore  Christ  died  for  all,  that  they  which  live  may  now 
no  longer  live  unto  themselves,  but  unto  Him  that  died  for 
them.  See,  Lord,  I  cast  my  care  upon  Thee,  that  I  may  live, 
and  consider  wondrous  things  out  of  Thy  law.  Thou  knowest 
my  unskillfulness,  and  my  infirmities ;  teach  me,  and  heal  me. 
He  Thine  only  Son,  in  Whom  are  hid  all  the  treasures  of  wis- 
dom and  knowledge,  hath  redeemed  me  with  His  blood.  Let 
not  the  proud  speak  evil  of  me;  because  I  meditate  on  my 
ransom,  and  eat  and  drink,  and  communicate  it;  and  poor, 
desired  to  be  satisfied  from  Him,  amongst  those  that  eat  and 
are  satisfied,  and  they  shall  praise  the  Lord  who  seek  Him. 

GRATIAS   TIBI,   DOMINE 


THE   END 


AUTOBIOGRAPHIES  IN  THE 
UNIVERSITY  LIBRARY 


IN   VOLUME 

Abelard II 

Alficri,  Vittorio X 

AlGhazali II 

Amiel,  Henri  Frederic XIV 

Andersen,  Hans  Christian .  XIII 

Augustine,  Saint I 

Aurelius,  Marcus I 

Avicenna II 

Bacon,  Sir  Francis IV 

Barry,  Mme.  Jeanne  Du .  .  IX 

Bashkirtseff,  Marie XV 

Beers,  Clifford XV 

Bessemer,  Sir  Henry XIV 

Bismarck XIV 

Bodley,  Sir  Thomas IV 

Bunyan,  John V 

Burns,  Robert X 

Byron XII 

Csesar,  Augustus I 

Caesar,  Julius I 

Cardan,  Jerome Ill 

Cartwright,  Peter XII 

Casanova,  Jean  Jacques . . .  VIII 
Catherine    the    Great    of 

Russia VIII 

Cellini Ill 

Charles  the  Fifth  of  Ger- 
many    Ill 

Cibber,  Colley.. VI 

Comines,  Sir  Philip  do II 

Dante..  II 


IN  VOLUME 

Darwin,  Charles XIV 

De  Quincey,  Thomas XII 

Dickens XIV 

Digby,  Sir  Kenelm IV 

Drake,  Sir  Francis IV 

Fouch6,  Joseph XI 

Fox,  George V 

Franklin,  Benjamin VI 

Frederick    the    Great    of 

Prussia VII 

Froebel,  Friedrich XII 

Froissart,  Sir  John II 

Garibaldi XIV 

Geikie,  Sir  Archibald XV 

Gibbon,  Edward IX 

Goethe IX 

Goldoni,  Carlo VII 

Goldsmith,  Oliver VIII 

Grammont,    Count    Phili- 

bert  de V 

Guerin,  Eugenie  de XIII 

Hamilton,  Alexander X 

Hawkes,  Clarence XV 

Haydon,  Benjamin XII 

Heine,  Heinrich XII 

Henry  the  Eighth  of  Eng- 
land   Ill 

Herbert  of  Cherbury ,  Lord .  IV 

Holbcrg,  Lewis VI 

Hugo,  Victor XIII 

Hume,  David VII 


AUTOBIOGRAPHIES  IN  THE  LIBRARY 


IN  VOLUME 

Huxley,  Thomas XV 

Jefferson,  Thomas IX 

Johnson,  Dr.  Samuel VII 

Josephus,  Flavius I 

Kovalevsky,  Sonia XV 

Lafayette X 

Latude,  Henri  de VIII 

Lilly,  William V 

Lincoln,  Abraham XIV 

Longfellow,  Henry XIII 

Luther Ill 

Maimon,  Solomon X 

Marguerite  de  Valois IV 

Marie  Asmar  of  Babylon . .  XIII 

Marie  Th6rese  of  France . .  XII 

Marmontcl,  Jean  Francois.  VIII 

Marshall,  John X 

Mary  Queen  of  Scots IV 

Metternich,  Prince  von . . .  XI 

Mill,  John  Stuart XIII 

Milton V 

Mohammed  All  Hazin VI 

Napoleon XI 

Nelson X 

Newman,  John  Cardinal . .  XIII 

Newton,  Sir  Isaac V 

Pepys,  Samuel V 

Petrarch II 

Platter,  Thomas Ill 

Priestley,  Dr.  Joseph VIII 

Raleigh,  Sir  Walter IV 

Kenan,  Ernest XV 


IN   VOLUME 

Robinson,  Mrs.  Mary X 

Roland,  Madame X 

Rousseau,  Jean  Jacques . . .  VH 

Ruskin,  John XTV 

Saint  Simon,  Due  de VI 

Salimbene II 

Sargon,  King  of  Babylon. .  I 

Scott,  Sir  Walter XI 

Sennacherib,  King I 

Sinuhit,  Prince  of  Egypt. .  I 

Socrates I 

Sophia,  Princess,  of  Han- 
over    V 

Spencer,  Herbert XIV 

Sully,  Duke  de IV 

Teresa,  Saint IV 

Timur,  or  Tamberlaine ...  II 

Tolstoi XV 

Trenck,  Baron  Frederic. . .  VIII 

Uni,  Lord,  of  Egypt I 

Vambery,  Arminius XV 

Victoria,  Queen XIV 

Vidocq,  Eugene XI 

Wagner,  Richard XIV 

Washington IX 

Wellington,  Duke  of XI 

Wesley,  John VH 

Wilde,  Oscar XV 

Wilhehnine,  Margravine  of 

Baireuth VII 

Wordsworth,  William XI 

Xenophon 'I 


THE  LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
Santa  Barbara 


STACK  COLLECTION 


THIS  BOOK  IS  DUE  ON  THE  LAST  DATE 
STAMPED  BELOW. 


RET'D  NOV  U  1989 


10m-5.'05(F4458U)470D 


1 


3  1205  00890  1181 


A    001  081  409    3 


